


Family Ties

by xXdreameaterXx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 10:05:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 21,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3116069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdreameaterXx/pseuds/xXdreameaterXx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Clara save the life of a young girl with special powers, but in order to protect her from her captors, the Doctor needs to become human. Again. The next day John Smith, a successful journalist, wakes up in London 1966 with a young daughter from his first marriage and his new wife Clara, who doesn't seem happy with their marital life at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had all started out so nicely. They were visiting a wellness space station, the Doctor had officially introduced himself and Clara at the reception and they were about to seek out a massage therapist. And then they had run into Isabel, a scared, young girl who had been running away from something. Of course the Doctor had told Clara not to get involved and of course she had ignored him. As it turned out Isabel had been brought there by her guardian to be sold to a man who wanted her for her special powers. Though what these special powers might be, Isabel hadn't known. The Doctor, however, seemed to have had a vague idea. Isabel was supposed to stay in the TARDIS while the Doctor and Clara took care of her captors. 

Their plan didn't work out. Before they realized what was happening the three of them were being shot at with what looked like laser guns to Clara. They barely made it to the TARDIS when a shot found its way through the door and hit the TARDIS console, obviously damaging something important.  
“They will follow us,” the Doctor said, “And they know who I am.”  
“Doesn't it scare them?” Clara asked, still thinking the whole universe must bow before the Doctor in either awe or fear.  
“Apparently not,” he said and started tearing at his hair. 

The TARDIS was shaking and electric sparks were erupting from the console unit. They would be crashing soon, Clara could feel it. And the Doctor did nothing about it. All he did was walk around the TARDIS, desperately searching for a way out.  
“Doctor,” Clara screamed, holding the scared little girl in her arms, “Doctor, what do we do?”  
“I must. . . no, there must be another way,” he muttered angrily.  
“Doctor, what are you talking about?” Clara demanded to know.  
“There is a possibility. But it's a bit tricky,” the Doctor explained, still running around like a madman, “Last time I did it it almost went horribly wrong. Clara, I need to know. Can I trust you, absolutely trust you to make the right decision when the time comes?”  
“Of course, Doctor. You always can,” Clara promised.  
“No, Clara. You have no idea what you'll be getting into. You need to be 100% sure. We will depend on you, and you alone.”  
“Explain it to me then.”  
“There is this thing, the chameleon arch. It will make me human. No one will be able to detect me as a Time Lord anymore. The machine will alter my physiology and my memories. Wherever we will land, it will create a story for me. Last time I did it I landed in the early 20th century. I was a teacher at a private school with no recollection of time travel or Gallifrey. Back then it didn't work on my companion but I worked on the arch in the past few hundred years and it can now do the same for you and Isabel. But Clara, only you will keep your memories. Only you will know who we really are and when you think that enough time has passed and Isabel's captors, who will absolutely follow us to wherever we go, have given up the search, when you are absolutely sure that they are gone, you will open this watch.”  
The Doctor pulled an old pocket watch from his coat and showed it to her.  
“A watch?” she asked in disbelief.  
“Yes. The chameleon arch will store my memory inside this watch. Do not under any circumstances lose it. Got that?”  
“We'll land somewhere and have a perfect story laid out for us. Only I will know you're a Time Lord and everyone is safe. Wait until captors are gone. Open watch. Is that it?”  
“And hide the TARDIS,” he looked at one of the screens, “Oh, won't be necessary. We're heading for 1966. TARDIS will fit right in. Now, we should get started.”  
“Yeeha, the 60s,” Clara said, unimpressed, “Just one more thing. What kind of role will Isabel and I be playing here?”  
“Oh, I don't know. The TARDIS will think of something. My last companion was my maid. That seems like a safe bet.”  
“Great,” Clara said. Playing the Doctor's maid. Not exactly what she had been hoping for on this trip but if there truly was no other way. . . “Okay, let's do this.”

The Doctor pulled something from the TARDIS console that looked too much like something hairdressers used, only with a lot more cables hooked to it. The Doctor used his sonic screwdriver on the device before putting his head inside.  
“Okay, Isabel's coming with me and Clara keeps her memory. Should be working fine now. Never tried it after my modifications, to be honest. Now, both of you, take my hand.”

Clara didn't think the Doctor's words sounded reassuring. He was a madman but she trusted him. After all, how bad could it be? She'd be serving his tea for a week or two, then open the bloody watch and everything was going to be fine. And she would get to visit the 60s.  
She knew the alteration had started when she heard the Doctor scream out in pain. He grabbed her hand much tighter and she was determined not to let go. She felt no pain and apparently neither did Isabel. The girl looked frightened, but okay. Clara closed her eyes and waited for the procedure to be over.

* * *

Clara felt tired when she woke up. Her bed was so warm and soft and something close to her smelled really amazing, but she didn't want to open her eyes yet to find out what it was.  
“Good morning, my love,” someone whispered and kissed her on the forehead. She jumped up immediately, almost knocking over a plate holding food and coffee. She now saw the Doctor standing in front of her, wearing only pyjama pants. 

And suddenly it hit her. The chameleon arch. It had worked. She had kept her memory but it had also planted something else inside her mind. The perfect story to fit in. She was Clara. She was in London 1966. And she was also the Doctor's wife.


	2. Chapter 2

_The TARDIS will think of something!_ Clara had never been on good terms with the Doctor's TARDIS, but this was an outrage. This was the kind of thing that could only happen if you let a machine do the thinking. Not a single sane person would've thought this a good idea. How was Clara going to handle it?  
She had to admit, the story wasn't exactly a bad one. The Doctor, now called John Smith, was a journalist, writing a rather modern advice column for the Sunday Telegraph and he was pretty good at it. He had been married before to Professor River Song, who had died giving birth to their daughter Isabel. A completely overwhelmed John Smith had hired Clara as a governess shortly after and married her five years later.  
Being a sort of stepmother Clara could handle. But playing his wife? She could not see a single way how this could possibly turn out okay.  
_Alright_ , Clara thought to herself, _Let's just pretend I am a spy. Spies have fake marriages, right? And spies are pretty cool. And if I play my role well this will all be over very, very soon._

“I made you some breakfast,” the Doctor pointed to the tray in front of her. And Clara had to admit that it looked rather delicious. Ham and eggs with rosemary and a pot of fresh, steaming coffee.  
“Thanks. . . darling,” she added uncertainly. Clara looked at the Doctor and he just seemed happy. Not confused, not baffled. This was so weird. She sipped her coffee and started eating her breakfast, mainly to avoid saying anything else. She hadn't felt particularly hungry but it was really tasty. Clara would've never thought the Doctor could be a good cook.  
“I'm afraid you'll have to hurry. You have to get to school. Unfortunately I'm meeting with my editor today. But I think the two of you will be fine,” the Doctor said and started looking through his wardrobe.  
School. Right. Clara was a teacher. Wait, no. She wasn't a teacher in this world. Clara started to feel a little sick when she realized that in this reality she was a stay at home mother and wife. Oh no, could this get any worse?

“School?” Clara asked.  
“I know, I know. I'm sorry I can't be there on her first day but my editor says it's something very important and I really need to be there.”  
“Oh, right. Yeah, we'll be fine,” now Clara remembered. It was Isabel's first day of school. She had just turned seven a few weeks ago.

The Doctor, who had now apparently found what he wanted to wear, began to take off his pyjama pants. Clara still sat in bed, horrified at was she was about to see in a few seconds.  
“I should get ready then. Don't want to be late on the first day, right?” she jumped out of bed and almost ran for the door without looking back. Clara stopped behind the closed bedroom door and fought the urge to bang her head against the wall really hard. How was she going to survive this?

As she made her way to the bathroom she couldn't help but notice how nice at least the upstairs of the house looked. She knew in her head that they were in a typical London house located in Morden. Not the poshest area, but quiet and affordable.  
Luckily the house wasn't decorated in the typical, horrible 60s fashion. The bedroom she had just left was mainly white with antique furniture. The floor was a dark, slightly greyish wood, probably walnut and the corridor walls were grey with white borders to the floor and ceiling. Clara noticed the old-school photographs that lined the walls. Pictures of a wedding that never really took place, although Clara had to admit that the short, white lace dress suited her. There were also photos of the three of them, looking happy, like an ordinary family.  
Clara went into the bathroom to freshen up and made her hair into a bun. She found a bottle of Chanel N° 5 on the shelf. _Why not?_ , she thought to herself and sprinkled it on. Still in her nightgown she went back to the bedroom and discovered with relief that the Doctor was not there anymore. The sight of her wardrobe lifted her spirits a little. It was filled with lots and lots of pretty dresses and skirts and blouses and blazers and she had a really hard time choosing. Clara eventually decided on a black polka dot petticoat dress that was a bit too long for her short figure and ended just below her knees and a pair of simple black pumps. She looked at herself in the mirror with satisfaction. At least the clothes were something she could work with.  
However Clara got a nasty surprise when she started looking for tights because there were none. All she could find were several garter belts in different colours and stockings, something she had so far considered sexy lingerie for special occasions only. And Clara, who had never worn stockings before, had absolutely no idea how to put them on. 

* * *

The Doctor was having coffee at the breakfast table, reading a newspaper article to Isabel when Clara came downstairs. He couldn't help but notice that his wife was looking particularly lovely today although he felt a bit irritated that apparently she had forgotten about their second wedding anniversary. Never mind that, he was still looking forward to tonight. He had made reservations at their favourite restaurant and hired a babysitter for Isabel. Nothing was going to get in the way of the perfect evening he had planned for the two of them. And maybe, after talking to his editor, they would have one more thing to celebrate.  
“Are you ready for your big day?” Clara asked Isabel, who was nervously nibbling on her toasted bread. The little girl jumped up an hugged Clara.  
“Yes,” she replied eagerly, “They will teach me to read so I can read the newspaper to Daddy soon.”  
“I'm looking forward to it,” the Doctor replied, smiling, and sipped his coffee. 

He felt grateful all of a sudden. There was a time when he had thought he would never be happy again but seeing his daughter and his beautiful, young wife, all he could think about was how lucky he had been. It all seemed almost too good to be true.


	3. Chapter 3

Clara said very little during the car ride to the restaurant.  
“What's the occasion?” she had asked when he had told her to put on something pretty. But in answer to her question he had only shrugged and smiled.  
Now they were sitting in the back of a cab in awkward silence. Clara now and then caught the Doctor looking at her. She couldn't tell whether his gaze was mesmerized or worried or confused. Probably a bit of everything and it irritated her even more. Should things get uncomfortable she could always open the watch, Clara knew that. That's why she always kept it on herself. But opening it prematurely could put them all in danger, so she decided to sit this one out as long as possible.  
“School went fine, by the way,” she said to break the ice.  
“Sorry?” apparently she had interrupted the Doctor's train of thoughts, “Oh, right. Isabel was fine, you say?”  
“Yes,” Clara smiled. She already loved the sweet, little girl, “She was braver than me on my first day. I remember I cried when my mum left me there on my first day.”  
“Really? You never told me,” the Doctor took her hand and looked deep into her eyes. Clara had to force herself not to flinch.  
“Well, it's not exactly something you brag about,” she laughed off her uneasiness and started straightening her skirt.  
“You're a great mother to Isabel. I don't know where we would be without you.” 

Luckily the car stopped just as the Doctor had finished his sentence because Clara had no idea what she should have replied.  
The Doctor jumped out of the car and over to her door to help her out. He paid the driver and both entered the fancy restaurant.  
“Smith,” he told the waiter at the entrance, “A table for two.”

The waiter nodded and led them through the dining area out on a candlelit patio with a single table and two chairs. Clara was in awe. No man had ever taken her to a place this beautiful.  
“Do you like it?” the Doctor asked as he held her chair.  
“It's perfect. But I wish you had told me we would be eating outside. I would've brought a jacket,” Clara said.  
The Doctor turned around and walked over to a small stand to fetch a blanket. He carefully wrapped it around her shoulders. “I had the waiter prepare a blanket for you. I know you're always cold.”  
Clara swore to God that if the situation was any different and the man any other than the Doctor she wouldd have indeed married him.  
“Thank you. Now it's really perfect,” Clara said only half-heartedly, “Now, what's the occasion?”  
The Doctor cleared his throat and tried very hard to hide his smile. “Well, as you know, I met my editor today. And he said my column was so popular that he wants to move it from the Sunday Telegraph to the Daily Telegraph. Yes, yes, I know it will be a bit more work, but also considerably more money. We could rent that little cottage in Wales again at the end of summer, you know, the one from our honeymoon that you loved so much.”  
He took her hand and gave her a big smile. Clara tried very hard to give a convincing smile back.  
“That sounds. . . great. The cottage, yeah, I remember. Lovely,” she said nervously and suddenly it hit her. To her this was just a story to play. She knew the truth. For the Doctor, however, this was reality. He loved her with all his heart. At least for now until the watch was opened again. Clara started feeling nauseous.

 _Pull yourself together_ , she told herself. _This is the Doctor. You like him. Now suck it up and pretend you love him._  
“Is something wrong?” he asked suddenly, “You've been a little off all day.”  
“No, no, I'm fine. I'm just a little scattered. That's all. This was a lovely idea. And the cottage is, too. I'm happy your work finally paid off.”  
“Good. I was beginning to think it was something that I did that you chose to ignore our anniversary,” he shot her an inquiring look.  
“Oh no. That was today?”  
“Kind of.”  
“I'm so sorry. I, I just. . . I'm sorry,” at least her surprise and apology sounded sincere.  
“It's alright, darling. Don't worry. You're here and we've got all night.”

All night. ALL NIGHT. Clara's brain felt like it was about to explode as she desperately looked for a way to get out of this one. She didn't have to use her imagination too much to realize what “all night” meant in this context. He was very much looking forward to sleeping with her and as far as she was willing to go to protect them all, that was not part of it. What could she tell him? Clara had no idea. 

Luckily at exactly this moment the waiter arrived with a bottle of what looked like expensive wine and provided her with what appeared to be the best way to dodge this bullet.  
After the waiter had taken their order Clara excused herself. “I'll be right back. Just need to powder my nose.”

She caught up with the waiter not far from their table, but still out of sight.  
“Excuse me, sir,” Clara said and the waiter turned around.  
“Yes?”  
“See my husband over there?” she pointed to their table, “Could you make sure his glass is never empty? I'd really appreciate that.”  
The waiter eyed her suspiciously but nodded.  
“Thank you,” Clara said and headed for the bathroom.  
Now that she was in here, she thought she could just as well wash her hands to pass the same and make it look like she had actually freshened up. When Clara looked into the mirror she saw a woman standing behind her, watching her.  
“Can I help you?” Clara asked.  
The woman only now moved towards the sink and began washing her hands, too, but said nothing.

Their dinner went on without further complications. The food was fantastic and they talked about uncomplicated subjects like Isabel or his work. They talked about maybe adding a swimming pool to their back yard next year and what colour they thought was best for the downstairs bathroom. Clara noticed with relief that the Doctor indeed drank every glass of wine he was poured.  
“By the way, a colleague of mine is getting married next month. We're both invited,” the Doctor mentioned.  
“Oh, that's nice. I will go looking for a new dress,” Clara said, doubting, and most of all hoping they wouldn't be here that long.  
The entire evening Clara hoped the Doctor never noticed when her mask slipped and she forgot for an instant to play the loving wife. But she could tell that he did. As soon as her thoughts wandered off he would reach for her hand, as if to pull her back into what to him was the real world.  
“What do you think? Shall we go home?” he suggested at some point.  
“Already?” Clara asked, taken aback.  
“What do you mean already? We've been here at least four hours.”  
“I just, well, I mean we haven't really celebrated yet. Shouldn't we order a bottle of champaign or something?” she asked nervously, not waiting for his response before calling the waiter to their table. He silently took her order and walked off.  
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” the Doctor asked jokingly when the waiter was gone.  
Clara stared at him in shock for a second before putting on her mask again. “What? Nooo. But your job – that's a really big deal. And it's our anniversary.”

Clara smiled at him, praying to every God in the universe for her plan to work.


	4. Chapter 4

The Doctor had to lean on Clara when they walked from the cab to their door. Clara regretted declining the driver's offer to help her get her husband inside the house but who would have thought such a lean man could be so heavy? Well, at least her plan had worked. She opened the door and shuffled the drunk Doctor inside where he leaned against the sideboard.  
“Nice evening,” he said, swaying slightly.  
“Yes. Now come on, let's get you to bed,” Clara replied and offered her arm.  
“Good idea,” he staggered towards her, trying to place a kiss on her lips but Clara managed to dodge him. She knew it wouldn't always be this easy to escape his affections unless she kept him under the influence the whole time. But she had realized on the way from the car that that would be too exhausting by far.

It took them a while to reach the upstairs bedroom with Clara having to almost carry the Doctor's dead weight to the bed by herself. She let go off him and the Doctor fell onto the mattress, his head hitting the wooden headboard.  
“Ouch,” he called out and held the back of his head.  
“Oops, sorry,” Clara apologized, approaching him to take a look, “Does it hurt?”  
“No, it's fine,” he slurred slightly and then he began tapping on the empty side of the bed, indicating that she should join him.  
Clara ignored it and started taking his shoes off very slowly, hoping he would just fall asleep before she was done. But she had no such luck. When she looked up to him she saw that he was almost done unbuttoning his shirt though he was rather clumsy at it.  
“What are you doing?” she asked, mortified.  
“Undressing. Why? You wanna do it?”  
“No,” she half screamed. And her mask had fallen off. It took her a moment to regain her posture. “I mean, you must be tired. You should sleep.”  
The Doctor struggled into a sitting position. He grabbed her hand before Clara could react and pulled her closer.  
“I don't want to. I want _you_ ,” he said sincerely and suddenly didn't seem so drunk anymore. ”I love you, Clara.”

All of a sudden Clara felt incredibly guilty. And also incredibly alone. The Doctor depended on her. He had asked her if she was absolutely sure she could do this and she had said yes. But he had been right. She hadn't known what she was getting into, but she had promised him to keep them safe. And this man, John Smith, loved her and had no idea what was wrong. It wasn't real, Clara told herself, but it didn't change that right now she had two options: betraying the Doctor or breaking John Smith's heart. 

“What is it, Clara?” the Doctor asked, “Did I do something wrong? You haven't been yourself all day. If it's something that I did. . .”  
“It's not,” she just said.  
“Then what is it? Is it me?”  
“It's not you. It's me. I'm having an odd day,” she explained.  
“An odd day?” the Doctor asked loudly, still slurring a little, “Clara, I tried _so_ hard to give you a nice anniversary. An anniversary that, by the way, you forgot. Was that not enough?”  
“No, it was perfect. Everything was perfect,” she said.

The Doctor pulled her even closer now, resting his head on her chest. Clara let him but her body went rigid under his touch. She had never felt so uncomfortable in her entire life. She forced herself to caress his head and stroke his hair but when she felt the Doctor's hands feeling up her bottom, she unwillingly pushed away from him.  
The Doctor must have noticed her rejection because he struggled to get out of bed, still a little unsteady on his feet.  
“Where are you going?” Clara asked.  
“Guest bedroom. Have an odd evening!” he wished her and staggered off.

It took Clara a few seconds after the door closed but eventually she let herself fall onto the floor and started sobbing uncontrollably.


	5. Chapter 5

Something woke the Doctor but it took him a while to realize what it was. He reluctantly opened his eyes to see his wife sitting on his bed. She looked sad, a little worried even. But she was here and she stroked his hair. His head felt like it was about to burst.  
“Good morning,” she said sweetly but not without a trace of sadness in her voice.  
“Morning,” he mumbled. The memories of last night slowly came back to him.  
“I would've made you breakfast but I though you'd rather want this,” Clara said and pointed to the bedside table. There was Aspirin and a glass of water.  
“Drink. You'll feel better,” she told him.

The Doctor did as she said. His throat already felt better after he had downed the water.  
“I'm sorry for last night. I shouldn't have have pushed you. That was unfair,” he said.  
“No, I'm the one who should apologize. You were wonderful and I didn't appreciate it.”  
“We'll write it off as an odd day on both our parts,” he said and looked at the clock on the table. “An hour early.”  
“I couldn't go back to sleep,” Clara admitted, “I felt terrible.”

The Doctor scooted to make some room for Clara in the small guest bed. She hesitated but eventually got in and rested her head on his shoulder. The Doctor couldn't tell why but somehow Clara felt a world away, even now that she was so close to him. He replayed the scenes from last night in his head over and over again, looking for a clue as to what could have unsettled her but found nothing. It was like somehow overnight she had forgotten about all those years. Or changed her mind.  
The Doctor was scared all of a sudden, scared he might lose her. She was much younger after all. She might get bored and leave. And then, what would he do? Clara was the one thing that had kept him sane when he was heartbroken with no idea how he could raise a child on his own. She had put up with everything – his sadness, his temper, his insecurity. And when he had finally realized that he loved her and told her she had been ecstatic and overjoyed.  
All those memories suddenly seemed so far away, like a dream about a different life that never really took place. The Doctor put both his arms around Clara now and held her tight.  
“Clara?” he asked carefully.  
“Yes?”  
“Am I a good husband to you?”  
“Yes, why do you ask?”  
“I just wanted to make sure.”

* * *

A week had passed with no sign of Isabel's captors or other aliens and Clara wondered if maybe the Doctor had been wrong. Maybe they didn't follow them after all, but Clara didn't dare open the watch just yet. Not that she was very keen on staying here because she definitely wasn't. After the drama on the first day everything had gone smoothly but Clara was sure that sooner or later the topic sex would come up again and she really wanted to leave before that happened. But was it really safe? The Doctor wasn't the type to exaggerate when it came to danger and he wouldn't have suggested this stunt if he hadn't thought it was necessary. 

Well, maybe she wouldn't open the watch today. It was a really nice day, sunny and warm and Clara was sitting in the back yard with Isabel, practising the alphabet and the first rules of arithmetic.  
“Now, how do you pronounce this?” Clara asked and pointed at the W.  
“I don't know,” Isabel said stubbornly.  
“Come on. I'll give you a hint: the words walk and wall and wonder start with it.”  
“Double-u,” Isabel suddenly shouted proudly.  
“Right! Now, I think you're all set.”

Suddenly water poured down on both of them. They both screeched and Clara immediately started looking out for the source of the unexpected shower and found the Doctor standing a few metres away, holding a garden hose.  
“Oh, you!” she shouted over to him, half angry, half amused.  
“Do it again, Daddy!” Isabel demanded and laughed with joy.  
“Nooo!” Clara protested.  
“I was just watering the lawn. Not my fault you're sitting on it,” he shouted back and sent over another shower.  
“Isabel,” Clara said with a malicious smirk on her face, “What do you think about giving your Daddy a nice, long shower?”  
“Yes,” Isabel laughed in delight and ran towards the Doctor. A few seconds later they were both wrestling for the garden hose with water flying in every directing. Clara watched from a distance, feeling safe, until she saw the Doctor whisper something in Isabel's ear while pointing at her.  
“Oh no,” she protested, “Don't you dare!”

With united force they pointed the hose at her and Clara made a run for the house, reaching it completely soaked.  
“Guess we'll have salad for dinner,” Clara threatened when Isabel continued to point the hose at her. The girl dropped the hose immediately.  
“That's better,” she said and went upstairs to change.

Just as she had put on a new dress and was about to dry her hair the Doctor entered their bedroom.  
“I should probably change, too,” he said.  
“Yes, you fiend, you should,” Clara said, “And give me those trousers. I wanted to do the laundry later.”  
“I'll help you with it,” he said as he handed over the damp clothes, “Maybe we should consider buying a washing machine.”  
Clara, who had missed a decent washing machine more than anything, nodded.  
“You know what else I was considering?”  
“What?” Clara asked.  
“Well, Isabel is now 7 and I thought she might be old enough for a puppy,” he mumbled.  
Still, Clara heard him. “No, you're not getting her a puppy.”  
“Why not? Puppies are cute and I think every child should have one.”  
“Yes, they are cute until they crap in the kitchen and you have to walk them every day and they get flees and want to sleep in the bed. And remember what happened to the cat?” Clara asked.  
“The cat was an accident. And I'm working from home and you're here, too. Lots of people to take care of a puppy.”  
The Doctor looked at her but Clara was not convinced. She shook her head.  
“You're not getting her a puppy.”  
“Please, Clara. Please, let me get her a puppy.”  
“You're a terrible dad, you know that? Remember how Isabel cried when the postman ran over the cat?”  
“Yes, but cats are stupid. They just walk off and get themselves run over.”  
“God, by all means, get her a puppy. But remember this: I am not feeding it. I am not walking it. I'm not giving it a bath. And if I see a single flee, I am out of here. Got that?”  
“Got it,” the Doctor said smiling and pecked her on the cheek, “You're the best.”

A cold breeze blew through the bedroom when the Doctor closed the door. Clara walked over the to window to close it when she looked out and spotted a woman standing across the street, staring straight at their house. When she noticed Clara staring back at her she turned around a walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day Clara had an idea. After she had walked Isabel to school she took the tube to the centre of London and made her way to a Victorian style house. Nervously she rang the door bell.  
“Come on, be home. Please, be home,” Clara whispered to herself just before a short man, if you could call him that, answered the door.  
“Strax! Oh my God, I'm so happy to see you,” Clara said and greeted the Sontaran with a hug.  
“Stop that, boy,” he demanded, “Or you will be obliterated.”  
Clara smiled at him, knowing it was just an old habit and he would never truly harm her. As for the boy-thing, he would probably never learn the difference.  
“I need to see Madame Vastra,” Clara said, “It's urgent.”  
“I'm afraid Madame Vasta and her wife are out of town at the moment,” Strax said.  
Clara's heart sank. Madame Vastra was her last chance at help in this hopeless situation. She would definitely know what to do.  
“Okay, so, when will they be back?”  
“I don't know, to be honest. Could be a while. Last time I saw her she said she needed some time off.”  
“Okay, if I gave you an address, would you please tell them to come see me as soon as they return? And please, send Jenny,” Clara begged him.  
“Of course. Why? Did something happen? Did the Doctor leave you here?” Strax asked.  
“No, no, not exactly. It's complicated. The Doctor's here with me, he's just not. . . the Doctor. . . exactly. Long story. Please just tell them, okay?”  
“I will follow my orders, boy. Your problems will be taken care of,” Strax replied and saluted.  
“Thank you.”

* * *

When Clara arrived at home she saw a moving van parked in front of the house next door. A woman around her own age was struggling with a box. Clara saw the young woman was about to drop the box labelled “fragile” and jumped in to help.  
“Oh, thank you,” the woman said happily.  
“No problem,” Clara said and smiled, “You're moving in?”  
“Yes. With my husband.”  
“Well, then, welcome to the neighbourhood. I live next door. I'm Clara, by the way.”  
“I'm Maud,” the woman introduced herself, “Well, I should get inside and unpack or we won't have plates at dinner.”  
“Why don't the two of you come over for a barbecue?” Clara suggested, “You won't have to trouble yourself with dinner.”  
“Oh, that would be lovely. Thank you. We'll be there.”

* * *

“Honey, I'm home,” Clara announced as she entered the hallway. She had always wanted to use these words, just in a different context, with a real husband. But playing house was getting easier now and wasn't as horrible as she had imagined at first.  
She found the Doctor in his office, frantically typing away on his typewriter.  
“Oh, hi, you took a while,” he noticed.  
“Yes, I met our new neighbours. Invited them for barbecue tonight, if that's alright with you.”  
“But we don't have any steaks in the fridge,” he said.  
“No problem. I'll go shopping when I pick up Isabel from school. So you're okay with them coming over for dinner?”  
“Sure, darling,” he smiled, “And by the way. I was looking at some newspaper ads earlier. I can go have a look at some breeders next week. Would you prefer a Golden Retriever or a Beagle?”  
“I'd prefer if you changed your mind about the puppy.” 

* * *

The new neighbours arrived at 7 with a bottle of wine and introduced themselves as Maud and Brandon.  
“Oh, you have a daughter?” Maud asked when she saw Isabel helping the Doctor with the barbecue grill.  
“Isabel is the daughter of John's first wife,” Clara explained, forcing herself to call the Doctor John, “She never knew her mother. Sadly. But from what I've heard she was a great woman.”  
Now that she spoke those words, which were of course a lie, Clara realized that she had never actually heard anything about River Song. She had met her ghost. But apart from the fact that she was River Song and the Doctor's wife and dead, Clara knew nothing. And suddenly it annoyed her, though why that was, Clara couldn't tell.  
“And how did the two of you meet?” her neighbour asked her.  
“He hired me as governess for Isabel. I fell in love with the little girl immediately. Took a while with John though.”  
“How long have you been married?” Maud inquired further.

Clara, who was starting to get tired of her neighbour's questions, ignored the last one and turned around to spot Brandon, who was struggling with the wine bottle.  
“Here, let me,” Clara said and opened the bottle with a corkscrew. She handed it to him with the suggestion to help John with the barbecue. 

As Clara was preparing the salad, the Doctor entered the kitchen.  
“Why did you send that idiot over to me? He doesn't know a thing about barbecuing,” the Doctor complained and stole a piece of paprika.  
Clara laughed. “Not the cleverest boy on earth then. He didn't know how to use a corkscrew either.”

Clara didn't know why but she went over to the window that looked out to the back yard. She observed their new neighbours who were, as she now realized, acting pretty weird. Brandon just stood there, looking at Isabel, while Maud stared over to the kitchen window.  
“You know what?” Clara said, “Let's not invite them again. Ever.”


	7. Chapter 7

So their neighbours were aliens. Clara was sure of it. It made sense, if she thought about it. She had encountered a woman staring at her in the restaurant rest room on their first night here. She had caught a woman staring at their house just a day before new neighbours moved in next door, who, as she had invited them over, knew nothing of basic human appliances, and were also quite good at staring and asking questions.  
Their neighbours were sent here to watch them. But so far they only seemed to guess that Isabel was the girl they had come looking for, otherwise they would have already taken her. But Clara had to be twice as careful now. The Doctor and Isabel were safe only as long as she could keep up their pretence. 

Luckily it was getting easier. With every day Clara saw less of the Doctor and more of John Smith in the man she called her husband. He treated her and Isabel so kindly that sometimes she forget they had ever had a different life. She even started to enjoy playing house. After all, she hardly had anything to complain about. If it wasn't for the nights. Clara dreaded the nights most of all because every time she went to bed she was afraid the Doctor would ask for sex and she didn't know how often she could refuse without letting him become suspicious. Clara had no problem being hugged by him. She actually enjoyed that part. She let him touch her and of late she allowed the Doctor to kiss her. He seemed happy for now, but how long would it last?

It was their second week in the 60s and a surprise was waiting for Clara and Isabel when they returned from school. The house was empty and after calling out for him, Clara heard the Doctor's voice coming from the back yard. Only he wasn't alone.  
“Look what I got today,” he announced happily and pointed to the clumsy, blonde fur ball that hobbled over the lawn.  
_Oh no, he got the puppy_ , Clara thought. All the time she had hoped he would change his mind about it but she couldn't exactly use “What are we going to do with it in the TARDIS?” in their argument. Clara was also pretty sure the Doctor would never let a dog anywhere near the TARDIS when he was back to normal. But there was nothing she could do now. And it was also very hard to be mad at him when she saw how happy he was when his daughter's eyes beamed with joy. 

Isabel screamed joyfully as she saw the puppy and let herself fall into the grass to pet it. Clara had to admit that it was indeed darn cute.  
“So, you're happy now?” Clara asked the Doctor while Isabel was busy cuddling her new friend.  
“You know I didn't really need the pup to be happy,” the Doctor put his arm around her and smiled, “I just thought it would be a nice addition since. . . well, you know.”  
“No, I don't. What is it?”  
“Never mind. Forget about it,” the Doctor said and pressed his lips to her forehead.  
“Okay,” Clara replied.  
“Can I name it?” suddenly Isabel asked.  
“Sure,” the Doctor answered, “It's a boy, by the way.”  
“Sammy,” the girl decided and went on cuddling the pup.

* * *

The Doctor watched his perfect little family for a while. It was all too good to be true and yet Clara was still acting a little strange. Not as strange as she had been on the day of their anniversary and they hadn't fought again since then. But the Doctor could feel her flinch whenever he touched her. It was becoming less and less obvious but he was the only one in their relationship initiating physical contact now and he had no idea why that was. She was still as great with Isabel but he had no idea how he should tell her that he wanted a second child. They hadn't even slept together in over two weeks, so how was he supposed to suggest a second kid?  
Before the big promotion he hadn't even considered another child, although he had always wanted one. But now they could afford it. 

That topic aside, he missed Clara terribly. He missed being close to her. And how could he not? Clara was everything he had ever wanted in a woman. She was smart and beautiful, with a sense of humour that he adored and she was great with Isabel. Yes, she could be bossy at times, but if he was really honest, he loved even that and he had no problem admitting that he sometimes even needed it. 

“Clara, do you have plans for tomorrow?” he asked, suddenly having an idea.  
“Not yet, why?”  
“Well, I just thought, since tomorrow's Friday, we could do something. We'll hire a babysitter after school to watch Isabel and the dog and I'll take you shopping. You'll need a new dress for the wedding. And maybe afterwards we could. . . go to a dance?”  
“Go to a what?” Clara asked in disbelief. “You hate dancing, remember? Except for at weddings.”  
“I hate dancing, you don't.”  
“True,” Clara admitted. She seemed to like the thought.  
“And we'll be going to a wedding in two weeks. I should practice,” the Doctor said, not letting his ulterior motive shine through.  
“Sounds reasonable to me.”


	8. Chapter 8

Clara jumped up and down in the fitting room but could not reach the upper part of the zipper, no matter how hard she tried.  
“Is everything okay in there?” the Doctor asked from the other side of the curtain.  
“No,” Clara came out of the cubicle, sighing in resignation, “I just can't reach it.”  
She turned her back to the Doctor and he fixed her zipper problem within two seconds.  
“There, all set,” he said and beheld her for a while.  
Clara looked at herself in the huge mirror and frowned. Somehow the houndstooth pattern hurt her eyes, no matter how fashionable it was supposed to be.  
“Nope,” she finally said.  
“Why not?” he asked, “It's pretty. I like it. But then again, everything looks good on you.”  
“Stop flattering me. Not helpful.”

She went back into the cubicle to try on the last of the dresses she had brought into the fitting room. It was a green, halterneck polka dot dress. She already owned so many polka dot dresses, so she was reluctant to buy yet another one. Nevertheless she tried it on. Damn, polka dot it was.  
Just as Clara was about to announce that she had found the right one, the Doctor opened the curtain and presented a beautiful, navy blue petticoat dress with a white Peter Pan collar, a white hemline and a white belt. Clara could hardly believe the Doctor had this nice a taste in clothes.  
“How about this one when we go out tonight?” he asked.  
“I'll try it,” she said happily.  
When she turned to look at the green dress in the full mirror, the Doctor got behind her and watched.  
“It's perfect,” he said sincerely.  
“You think?”  
She had already wanted to turn around and head back behind the curtain when she suddenly felt a shiver on her neck. Clara froze. The Doctor was carefully playing with those little short hairs that never quite stayed in her hair bun, almost never touching her skin. It was a funny feeling that she couldn't place. Then her heart started to beat just a little too fast when he let his hand slide down her back to where the dress ended. He closed the zip for her.  
“You missed the last bit,” he explained and smiled a little.  
“I, uhm, need to open it again,” she spluttered. Why was she so flustered all of a sudden? It's not like he hadn't touched her before.  
The Doctor opened the last centimetres of the zipper again and this time she was painfully aware of the contact. She went back into the cubicle as soon as possible. Clara tried on the last dress without showing it to him, just saying it fit perfectly and would it be a surprise and they both headed for the checkout.

* * *

Clara was amazed as the Doctor led her into a nice dance club in the centre of London. She hadn't been so very fond of clubs in her own time, she had always thought them to be too loud, too messy and filled with the wrong kind of people and music. But she had been so curious when the Doctor had suggested to go to a dance that she had completely forgotten her aversion. So this was the kind of thing her grandparents had gone to in their days. Clara realized that if clubs still were like this in her days, she would go more often. The place wasn't too crowded. Several couples were dancing to an Aretha Franklin song in the centre of the room, others were sitting at tables and on cosy looking sofas at the side. Clara and the Doctor fit right in. She in her new, navy blue dress, her hair bumped and her make up done in the typical fashion of the 60s. The Doctor wore a pair of simple, dark grey trousers and a white shirt. His hair was combed back and slighted parted to one side and Clara had to admit that he looked quite dapper.  
“It's a very nice place,” she commented as they strolled over to an empty table.  
“Yes.”  
Clara looked over to him and started laughing. “You hate it here.”  
“Yes,” he just said, gave her a smile and a peck on the cheek. 

They both ordered a beer when a waitress walked by and observed the dancing couples for a while.  
“Why did you suggest coming here?” Clara asked.  
“I thought it would make you happy,” he replied honestly.  
“It does. But you don't have to do everything to make me happy.”  
“Yes, Clara, I do,” suddenly he was quite serious. Clara wondered what was going on in his mind, but she didn't have to wonder for very long. “It's the only way I can make sure you're not leaving me.”  
She saw the sadness in his eyes now, his insecurity and for the first time she was the one to take his hand.  
“I'm not going anywhere,” she promised him, “Except to the dance floor. With you.”

They were playing “Monday Monday” as they entered the dance floor. Clara folded her arms behind his neck and he placed his hands around her waist. They moved slowly and Clara started feeling very insecure about the way the Doctor looked at her. She tried very hard to avoid his gaze but whenever their eyes met, she felt the heat rise into her cheeks. She tried to laugh it off.  
“I don't care if you hate it here. I like it,” she said, giggling a little. Why did she giggle? It must've been something in the water, otherwise she couldn't explain what was unsettling her today.  
“Let it go, Clara,” the Doctor suddenly said.  
“Let what go?” she asked, honestly not knowing what he was talking about.  
“I don't know. The thing you're desperately trying to hold on to.”  
“I'm not holding on to anything,” Clara denied.  
“Okay, then why am I not the one leading this dance? You're controlling every move!” he said very calmly.  
“Oh,” Clara blushed as she realized it was true. She had been trying to control every move, but not only during the dance. She had controlled every minute of every day ever since they had arrived in the 60s, only with a little more pressure during the last few days and especially today. “I'm sorry.”

The Doctor suddenly lifted her up in the air, turning in a circle, before putting her back down again. Clara laughed at the surprise. It had been so nice to feel like a feather for just a few seconds. Her heart was still beating fast and her senses must have turned off for a moment because she felt herself putting both her hands to the Doctor's face and pulling him closer for a kiss.


	9. Chapter 9

Clara woke up happy, yet tired from her night out. The sun was already shining through the blinds when she turned around and saw the man lying next her. Her man. Her husband. The Doctor.

Suddenly Clara was wide awake. _No! No! No! No!_ This wasn't happening, was it? Now yesterday's memories were coming back to her. How he had touched her in the fitting room, how sad he had looked when he had told her he was afraid she might leave. How she had taken his hand and led him to the dance floor. How they had danced almost the whole night through. How nervous she had gotten all of a sudden. And how she had kissed him. No, this hadn't been a kiss out of pure responsibility. Clara had kissed him because at that moment there had been nothing she had sought more desperately. She was falling for the Doctor. And that simply couldn't be.

Of course she was falling for him. The Doctor, or rather John Smith, was the perfect husband. He knew her better than anyone else and he did everything to make her happy. What kind of woman could resist John Smith over a great period of time?  
But it wasn't going to happen, Clara decided. She still had the watch. She could open it. As soon as the Time Lord was back, the love would be gone. But they would also be in danger again. How long would it take the aliens next door to lose interest? Clara didn't know but she prayed it wouldn't be too long.

She didn't dare wake him up. It was not yet time to wake up either him or Isabel, so she crept out of bed to go downstairs. After fetching a glass of water she just sat there for a while, staring into space when a question came to her mind. Why was the Doctor his own complete opposite now? Clara imagined that the thought of having a house, a wife, a daughter and a dog would have driven the Doctor insane. She held the watch in her hand, only now realizing she had brought it downstairs. What would happen if she opened it right now? Suddenly a noise interrupted her train of thoughts. She looked up to see Isabel in her nightgown, holding her puppy.  
“Honey, why are you up already?” Clara asked.  
“Sammy peed on my bedroom floor,” the girl admitted.  
“Oh, well, you can tell Daddy when he's up. He'll take care of that,” she said and indicated with a wave of her hand for Isabel to come sit by her side.  
“Do you want breakfast already?” Clara asked her. Isabel shook her head and suddenly her eyes seemed to lock on the watch in Clara's hand.  
“Not yet,” the little girl suddenly said, looking directly into Clara's eyes.  
“What?”  
“Don't open it.”

Clara was in shock and apparently the little girl felt it because she quickly went on to explain.  
“I see through lies,” she told Clara, “That's my gift. That's why they are after me.”  
“You knew the whole time?” she was still baffled. How could this 7 year old girl know when the Doctor didn't. When the aliens next door didn't.  
“I was confused for a while. The story, it's in my head. It's not real. I remembered it but I didn't feel it,” Isabel explained.  
“I feel the same,” Clara admitted, “And the Doctor. . . your . . . _Daddy_?”  
“He believes it's real but I can see the stars in him all the time. You cannot open the watch. The people next door. . .”  
“They're the ones looking for you, I know,” Clara said, “It was quite obvious, even for me. But aren't you tired of pretending?”  
“No,” the little girl said honestly, “I never had a family before. I love it here.”

Clara smiled at the little girl and stroked her hair.  
“I think we'll be here for a while longer. So, why don't you take Sammy out in the back yard and I'll go make breakfast and wake Daddy?”  
Isabel gave her a smile and nodded before happily running out with her puppy. 

* * *

When the Doctor woke up, Clara's side of the bed was empty. He had so hoped she would be there. Finally, after two weeks of trying, he had made a breakthrough with her. Whatever had unsettled his wife, it was slowly going away – or at least that was what the Doctor hoped for. But for the first time in two weeks she had kissed him.  
The bedroom door opened slowly and Clara's head appeared only a second later.  
“Oh, you're up already,” she noticed.  
The Doctor couldn't quite place the tone in her voice but decided to ignore it for the time being.  
“Yes, I was wondering where you had gone.”  
“Isabel was up. The dog had an accident in her room.”  
“Ops, I'll clean it up,” he said and got out of bed. Clara would not touch any mess the dog made, she had made that pretty clear.

The Doctor walked up to his wife and wrapped his arms around her.  
“Did you enjoy it yesterday?” he asked.  
“Yes, very much. Thank you,” she said sincerely, but still with a hint of oddness in her voice.  
“We should do it again some time,” the Doctor didn't wait for her reply. He pulled her closer for a kiss. A kiss that at first she was reluctant to give in to, but he could feel her resistance fading more and more.


	10. Chapter 10

It was a Friday morning and Clara had just come back from dropping off Isabel at school. She came home and immediately started looking for her husband, whom she found sitting in front of his typewriter.  
“Hey honey, are you busy?” she asked.  
“No, almost finished the next column. I was about to go outside and do some work in the garden.”  
“So I should be expecting a surprise shower?” Clara laughed at him, “Which, by the way, wasn't so very funny.”  
He smiled and Clara suddenly remembered why she had come looking for the Doctor in the first place.  
“Listen, I met one of the other mums today. She is the mother of Isabel's best friends and she seems really nice.”  
_And she's not an alien_ , Clara added in her thoughts.  
“I invited them over for dinner,” she said, waiting for the Doctor's reaction.  
“I hope they're not as boring as our neighbours. Seriously, I can't stand another evening like this,” the Doctor complained.  
“They're not. She seems nice and Isabel talks about the twins all the time. It would be nice for her – and they said they wanted to see her puppy. I'll make dinner, you don't have to do anything.”  
“Alright, alright, you convinced me,” the Doctor said and got up from his office chair. 

He put his arms on her hips and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I'll be outside.”  
“And I'll be in the kitchen.”

Clara loved the kitchen. It was by far her favourite room of the whole house, although she dearly missed some of the modern kitchen appliances that made a lot of things easier. But cooking and baking was still basically the same and she loved that. She had been looking through her handwritten cook book for a while, pondering over the dinner question. She could make a casserole, something both adults and children would eat and a chocolate tart for dessert.  
Clara started collecting the ingredients for the tart. As she was walking over to the cupboard, her eyes gazed out of the window for a second and she saw the Doctor working in the garden. She stopped and watched him for a while. His white shirt was soaked with sweat and almost transparent as it clung to his chest and back. Clara could see every muscle working underneath. And she liked the look of it. 

It wasn't until a few minutes later that she realized she had been watching him work for long enough and evntually tore her eyes away. Clara wanted to smack something really heavy over her own head.  
_You're not supposed to like him_ , she told herself, _he's the Doctor_. Clara went outside to put an end to the distraction.  
“Maybe you should wear something else,” she shouted over to him, “You'll get dirt on it!”  
“What?” came a voice back, “I can't hear you.”  
Clara sighed and walked over to him.  
“I said maybe you should wear something else. That shirt's too good to wear it for gardening,” she explained.  
“Yeah, you're right,” the Doctor said and looked down on his soaked shirt.  
Clara knew she had to get back inside. She had never understood what women liked about sweaty men but now she was beginning to see the appeal. Now that she was so close to him she couldn't imagine anything better than the scent of his cologne mixed with the scent of his sweat, so masculine, so inviting, so. . .  
No! This had to stop. Clara turned around and walked back into the kitchen to continue her baking, but the Doctor followed her. Damn, why did he follow her? To change, of course, as she had told him. Why did he always have to listen to her? It was maddening.  
Out of the corner of her eye Clara saw something that made her turn around, although she wished, truly wished she hadn't. When she turned to face him, she saw that he had taken off his shirt and thrown it over one of the kitchen chairs.  
“Wh-what are you doing?” she stuttered.  
“Taking my shirt off. Like you told me to,” the Doctor explained with a smirk.  
Oh God, he knew! He knew what was going on in her mind! How did he know?  
“I, I told you to change,” Clara said, slowly backing away as he came closer,”You could change upstairs.”  
“No, I think I'm going to do it. Right. Here.” Clara's back hit the counter. There was nowhere to run to now, nowhere to hide. She wanted to hide so desperately and yet didn't want to. She wanted him now more than anything while the voice inside her head, the one that constantly screamed _No_ slowly faded away. 

Then everything happened so quickly. Clara couldn't tell who started it but she found herself on the counter seconds later, her legs wrapped around his hips and both their lips locked together in a passionate kiss.  
_So this is it_ , Clara thought, _this is where the ship of all the good resolutions sinks_. No, it wasn't right. But if it wasn't right, why did she want it so much? Why did he want it? Why in God's name had the TARDIS made them husband and wife? What would the Doctor do when he was back to normal and remembered them doing this? 

That thought made her stop at last. Clara broke the kiss and pushed him away from her. She jumped off the counter and positioned herself on the other side of the room and watched the Doctor tearing at his hair and walking around for a minute. Before he started shouting at her.  
“What's the matter with you?”  
Clara was too shocked to reply for a moment. She hadn't expected him to get angry.  
“Clara, please, help me out here. I don't understand it!”  
“I'm not. . . in the mood,” she whispered carefully.  
“That's a lie. Don't you think I don't know you well enough? You wanted this,” he shouted at her, “Otherwise I would have never tried to. God, Clara, you're my wife. _I love you!_ ”

Still, she remained silent.  
“I don't know why you keep building this wall between us but one day I woke up and it was there and I don't know if you do this to keep me out or if you're just trying to make me jump through hoops because, I don't know, I can't even _think_ of a reason. But this isn't us, Clara. Please, just tell me what's wrong so I can try to fix it.”  
Clara shook her head. She was close to tears already. She couldn't stand to see him so unhappy but giving in to John Smith would be like betraying the trust the Doctor had put in her, taking advantage of a situation he couldn't control.  
“It's not you,” Clara only said.  
“Then what is it?” The Doctor walked over to her and placed his arms on her own, “Clara, if you're unhappy, you need to tell me. We can work it out together.”

And at that moment Clara began sobbing again. But this time there was him, holding her in his arms, comforting her without even having the slightest idea as to what made her sad.  
“I am terrible person,” she said in between sobs.  
“Why on earth do you think that?” he asked.  
“Because you're perfect and I keep screwing things up. I'm so sorry.”  
“You can't screw up hard enough to make me stop loving you,” the Doctor said and kissed her head, never breaking the embrace.


	11. Chapter 11

They had been sitting on the sofa for quite a while, just holding each other. Clara couldn't tell how much time had passed but she guessed it was almost time to pick up Isabel from school.  
“I didn't finish baking,” Clara suddenly remembered what she had wanted to do before all of that.  
“Mh?” the Doctor asked.  
“I was about to make a tart. I didn't finish,” she explained.  
“I can make the tart while you pick up Isabel.”  
“You?” Clara struggled free of his embrace to look at him.  
“Hey, I'm quite good at cooking and baking. You just never let me,” the Doctor defended himself, “Just let me this once.”  
“I have a better idea. You pick up Isabel, I make the tart. I'm sorry, but I don't trust you around the kitchen.”

The Doctor made an attempt to get up but Clara wrapped her arms back around him. “No, don't go just yet.”  
She didn't know what had gotten into her, but before she could stop herself, she heard the words come out of her mouth. “I love you.”

* * *

At least her second dinner party went better than the one before, mostly because their guests weren't aliens, Clara thought. The parents had been nice, a little boring, but nice and Isabel and the twins had tired the dog out so much it was now sleeping peacefully in its basket.  
“Let me help you with the dishes,” the Doctor said and joined Clara at the sink.  
“Thanks,” she said with a smile and handed him a dish cloth.  
“I'm glad Isabel made friends already. The twins seem nice.”  
“You can't remember their names, can you?” Clara eyed him suspiciously.

The Doctor's sheepish laugh was enough for Clara to prove her right.  
“So, I've been thinking about something,” she started.  
“About what, darling?”  
“You know, Susan works part time.”  
“Yes?”  
“She said she might be able to get me a job, too,” Clara suggested, “I wouldn't have to work every day and only for a few hours. But it would be nice to get out of the house once in a while.”  
The Doctor laughed. “But you don't have to work. Especially now that I got my promotion.”  
“I want to,” Clara said, “I love the house work and Isabel and everything but it would be nice to go out for other occasions than picking up Isabel and grocery shopping.”  
“Honestly, I don't know. What does it say about a man when he lets his woman go to work?”  
Clara put her arms akimbo. “Well, I don't know,” she said angrily, “Maybe that he's married to an independent woman whose life doesn't revolve around the kitchen.”  
“Forgive me, Clara,” he said and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Sometimes I'm still a bit old fashioned. If you really want a job, you should get one. Just. . .”  
“Just what?”  
“Just pick something respectable?” the Doctor ducked away slightly as if expecting a blow.  
“What do you think of me? I was thinking about the book shp. Respectable enough for you, mister?”  
“Book shop seems fine,” he said and continued to dry the dishes she put in front of him, “I'd rather you changed your mind though.”  
“And I wanted you to change your mind about the puppy. Look how that turned out.”

* * *

When they had gone to bed, Clara started to ponder his words. Maybe she should change her mind about the job. After all, how long would they be here?  
Clara found it hard to admit, but she started to get comfortable with her new life. Maybe even a bit too comfortable because sometimes she forgot it was all just temporary, like earlier when she had talked to Susan about the job. It hadn't even crossed her mind then that all of this could be over in a day, a week or a month. 

Clara missed the stars, the travelling, but she had never felt at home anywhere ever since her mum had died. But this, this felt very close and it wouldn't get easier to give up.

She turned around in her bed and snuggled up to the Doctor who immediately put his arms around her. Would he still do that when he was back to normal? Probably not.

* * *

Clara once again tried to put on stockings, but still with no better results. They were expected to attend the wedding of a colleague in about an hour and although Clara had managed to go without appropriate hosiery so far, tonight she needed to wear them.  
The Doctor entered their bedroom and Clara realized in an instant that he, too, wasn't ready yet. He worse shoes and black trousers alright and had already put on his black jacket, but the white shirt underneath was still only halfway buttoned.  
“You know, it's great that Isabel is sleeping over at the twin's place. We don't have to worry about a babysitter,” he said before he apparently realized she was struggling with her garter belt. “Need help with that?”  
“No,” Clara replied, “Yes.”  
Clara sat down on the bed and sighed. “It's the damn stockings. I hate them. I should have bought tights.”  
“I prefer stockings,” the Doctor said as he knelt down in front of her and started adjusting the lace trimmings, “Tights are all practical, but stockings, they look. . .nice.”  
Clara gently smacked his head. “Hey, dirty.”  
“Sorry,” he mumbled with a smile as his hands slid over her leg to fasten the last strap to the stockings.  
Clara felt the heat rise into every cell of her body. She couldn't tell whether it was the touch or the way he looked with his hair still dishevelled and the shirt unbuttoned, or whether it was his cologne that she liked so much.  
“There, all done,” he said but his hands were still lingering. Clara didn't even hear what he said, the blood was rushing in her ears. To hell with the Doctor! She wanted John Smith now.  
Clara took him by the collar of his jacket with both her hands and pulled him in for a kiss. The Doctor lifted her up without a visible effort and threw her further onto the bed, landing on top of her only an instant later. She started sliding his jacket off, which wasn't easy, since his hands were all over her.  
“Careful,” he said in between kisses, “You'll wrinkle the suit again.”  
“Just take it off.”  
And at that moment the doorbell rang. Clara groaned in frustration.  
“Noooo, not now!”  
“That must be the cab,” the Doctor said and rose from the bed. He offered Clara a hand to help her up. She took it, but instead of letting him help her, she pulled him back onto the bed.  
“Hey, that's not fair,” he laughed and kissed her again, “We'll continue this tonight.”  
“Okay,” she agreed grumpily and followed him out of the bedroom.  
“How does my hair look?” the Doctor asked as they passed the mirror.  
Clara smiled. “Sexy.”


	12. Chapter 12

The wedding reception was one of the most amazing things Clara had seen in the 60s so far. It had been a month ever since they had arrived but this was promising to be the best night on earth. She loved the decoration, the music, the dolled up people.  
Clara didn't know any of the other guests but it didn't really matter. Every time she struck up a conversation, the Doctor pulled her away to the dance floor. They danced and laughed and kissed each other whenever there was an occasion for it and Clara loved it. And she loved him, the man who had been in her life for almost two years and who had made her fall in love with him by simply loving her like no one ever had before. He looked so dashing tonight in his simple black suit and Clara was proud to be at his side. 

She had been proud to be as his side before when he was the Doctor and she was his companion, the one amongst billions he had chosen to travel with him. But this felt different. Now she could say that she was proud to be at John Smith's side – as his wife.

“You know what, I think there is a room where they keep the coats,” Clara said and winked at him.  
“Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?”  
“Maybe. Let's find out.”

The closet room wasn't big but it was dark and cosy and, in Clara's eyes, fulfilled their current needs. She closed the door behind them and suddenly an awkward silence spread across the room as the realisation of what she had suggested was beginning to dawn on her.  
“So, this is indeed where they keep the coats,” the Doctor said, looking around.  
“Yes,” Clara replied.  
He cleared his throat.  
“It's a nice wedding,” she said.  
“Yes.”  
“A bit boring though, since I don't really know anyone.”  
“But the dancing was fun.”  
“Yes, yes, it was,” Clara looked at her feet, “We're married. We should be better at this.”  
“Well, we did have a rough couple of weeks. Could be natu. . .”  
“I want you,” Clara interrupted him.  
“I want you, too. But this here is. . . it's just weird. That's not us. Let's go home, Clara.”

* * *

The cab ride home was a quiet one. Neither of them said anything, but they kept holding hands and exchanging quick glances. The closer they got to their house, the more nervous Clara grew. As soon as they stepped through the door, there would be no turning back.  
“We've arrived,” the Doctor's voice interrupted her train of thoughts.

The house was quiet with Isabel at her sleepover and the dog snoozing peacefully in it's basket. Clara thought it was strange how this place had turned into her home in less than a month.  
The Doctor took her hand and led Clara upstairs into the bedroom where he switched on the bedside lamps.  
“So, here we are,” he said, just standing there with his hands in his pockets, looking so handsome and yet so insecure.  
Clara looked around as to avoid his gaze.  
“You're nervous,” he realized, “You weren't nervous earlier.”  
“It didn't seem quite so real earlier,” she admitted. It had been easy this afternoon, and much more unexpected. But now that they both knew what they were about to do she didn't really know how to do it.  
“Here, let me help you,” he said and stepped towards her. 

The Doctor looked at her for a moment and Clara stared right into his grey eyes. They looked so different, so innocent, and much younger now that they belonged to John Smith. He cupped her face in both his hands and kissed her gently. Clara placed his arms around him and just pressed his chest against hers tightly as if she had no intention of ever letting go. When she did let go, he took off his jacket and threw it carelessly onto the floor before unfastening the bow of her halter neck dress. Clara turned around to let him open the zip as well. Her dress fell to the floor and she kicked it aside and turned back around. She reached out to open the Doctor's shirt, button after button, and throwing it over to where his jacket was already lying. She already wanted to open his belt, but the Doctor stopped her.  
“Hey, my turn,” he smiled at her.

Clara sat down on the bed and stretched a leg so he could loosen the straps holding her stockings. His belt was easily taken off and his pants almost fell down with it. _He's just too damn thin_ , Clara thought as he helped her up again. The Doctor put his arms around her to unhook the garter belt and, shortly after, her bra. His warm skin felt so good on her own. The Doctor pulled the underpants down himself and now they stood there, naked, and Clara hoped he would continue the lead because she was still scared as hell. Excited, but scared. He took both her hands and pulled her down onto the bed after him. Clara bent down to press a shy kiss to his lips.  
“Are you gonna keep those socks on?” she asked.  
“If you don't mind.”


	13. Chapter 13

Clara woke up in the arms of the Doctor. He had pulled her almost on top of his naked chest and one of her legs rested between his. The Doctor was still sleeping peacefully and she didn't have the heart to move.  
Clara watched him for a while and when she realized she couldn't feel that one arm she had been sleeping on all night any more, she woke him with a kiss.  
“Good morning, my love,” she said softly.  
“Good morning, my beautiful lady,” he replied, still sleepy, “What time is it?”  
Clara turned around to have a look at the clock. “It's quarter past nine.”  
“What time are we supposed to pick up Isabel?”  
“Around eleven, I told them,” Clara said and a smile appeared on her face, “So, still enough time for another round.”  
The Doctor grinned and leaned in for a kiss but at the exact same moment Clara heard the door bell ring.

“Why is it always the damn door bell?” the Doctor asked visibly annoyed.  
“I don't know. We should just take that damn thing down.”  
Clara got out of bed and covered her naked body with a robe. She didn't bother with shoes or smoothing her dishevelled her but went downstairs and straight for the door. When she opened it she saw a familiar face staring back at her.

“Jenny!” she blurted out in surprise. Though if it was a good or a bad one, Clara couldn't tell. Apparently this was her guilty conscience calling.  
“Hi Clara,” Jenny greeted her with a smile although Clara could see a hundred questions hiding behind her eyes. But she didn't know how much time she had before the Doctor came downstairs.  
“Strax told us where you were. We got home just last night. What happened? Is the Doctor okay? Did he leave you here?”  
Clara pulled Jenny into the hall.  
“Ohhh, long story,” Clara said and covered her face with her hands, “The Doctor is here with me. But he is human and doesn't know a thing about time travel. We saved the life of a little girl with special powers and aliens were chasing us here. They live next door, by the way. And to avoid being caught the Doctor became human and he now thinks I'm his wife and the girl is our daughter. The aliens next door know nothing so far but we can't leave until they've given up the chase.”  
“How can the Doctor be human?” Jenny asked.  
“That really is a long story,” Clara heard footsteps coming downstairs, “You need to go. I'll come see you and Vastra soon and explain everything.”

The Doctor, also only dressed in a robe, appeared in the hall. He still looked sleepy and he stopped next to Clara to inspect their early guest. He looked at her as if expecting an explanation.  
“Oh, honey, this is Jenny, an old friend from school,” Clara lied, “She just moved back to London and wanted to stop by and let me know.”  
The Doctor extended his hand to greet Jenny and she reluctantly took it, still seeming a bit puzzled by the situation.  
“It's nice to meet you. An old friend of Clara's I can forgive the early disturbance.”  
“It's half past nine,” Jenny said, now taking a good long look at both of them. Clara saw the look on her face and what she must be thinking. If she told Madame Vastra Clara would be in big, big trouble.  
“Well, I should go. Visit me as soon as you can, okay?” Jenny urged her and turned around with no further goodbye. _Yep, I am in trouble_ , Clara thought.

* * *

Clara didn't dare to go back the same day, or the day after. And then came the day when she was supposed to start her new job. She walked into the shop after dropping Isabel off at school. The manager was nice and showed her around. Clara had never sold anything before. Back in her own time she had been a nanny and later a teacher, both of which had been a full time job that Clara didn't want to take on at the moment. But selling books didn't seem so bad. She got the hang of the register soon enough and she got along well with her boss and colleagues. The rest would come over time. The manager sent her home an hour earlier than she had expected, saying that would be enough her first day and to come back on Friday morning for her first real shift. Now Clara didn't really have any excuse to delay the visit at Madame Vastra's house any further, especially since it was basically around the corner. 

Clara rang the door bell that Strax answered shortly after.  
“Ah, Miss Clara, we've been expecting you,” he said and stepped aside to make way for her.  
She found Madame Vastra and Jenny having tea in the conservatory and was invited to join them. After a few moments of silence, Clara suddenly thought of something.  
“Jenny, you're human, right?” she asked.  
“That's right, Miss,” she answered.  
“How come you're still looking like you're 25. Shouldn't you be over 100 years old?”  
“I stopped counting, but it's definitely over 100.”  
“How is that possible?” Clara wanted to know.  
“That's a secret,” Jenny whispered and winked at Clara.  
“You don't think I'd let my wife wither and die, do you?” Vastra suddenly joined in.  
“No, no, of course not.”  
“We've been expecting you earlier,” Vastra said with a strict tone in her voice, “Strax made it sound like it was an emergency but when Jenny stopped by your house, it didn't really seem like you were eager to leave.”  
“Well, it's not as bad here as I thought it would be,” Clara explained.  
“Of course not, after you've successfully seduced the Doctor.”  
“Excuse me!?” Clara had to stop herself from rising from her chair, “You know nothing of what happened in the past four weeks.”  
“I do know that you're sleeping with the Doctor. I only need to look at you to know that you're in love with him,” Vastra said angrily, “He's a Time Lord, Clara, not some monkey toy you can lure into your bed.”  
“Ehem,” Jenny cleared her throat.  
“Oh, I'm sorry, my dear,” Vastra apologized to her wife in the sweetest tone and then turned back to Clara. “Well, you're here now. Let us hear your explanation.”

And Clara told them every detail of the story. Well, not every detail. She left out the personal parts rather discreetly.  
“Well, we'll see what can be done about the aliens,” Vastra said, “I will start investigating tomorrow. But I'm still very disappointed in you, Clara. The Doctor put his trust in you and you betrayed him. You took advantage of his situation and I don't know how he will react when he is back to normal. You should give us the watch. I don't think you can be trusted with making such an important decision at the moment.”  
“No way,” Clara said angrily, “The Doctor left it to me to decide when to open the watch and I will do it when I see fit.”  
“Very well,” Vastra said, “I'll send Jenny over when we have information about the aliens. Until then, don't feel welcome to stop by and don't get too comfortable.”


	14. Chapter 14

Clara jumped into the hallway, dripping wet and cursing the weather. She just dropped her umbrella where she stood, the storm had broken it anyway, and headed for the warm living room.  
“Are you sure you want to go to Wales with this weather going on?” Clara asked the Doctor who was sitting comfortably on the couch.  
He turned around to look at her and his face turned into a frown immediately. “Honey, you need to change out of these clothes. You already have a cold.”  
“I don't have a cold,” Clara denied, “It's just a little bug. I'll be fine.”  
If Clara was honest with herself, she hadn't really felt all that well in the past two weeks or so, but she blamed it on the cold October weather and the fact that she still hadn't heard back from Madame Vastra. They probably had abandoned her, or could her investigation really take over a month?  
“How about I'll draw you a bath?” the Doctor suggested, “We still have some time before the cab gets here.”  
Clara threw a blanket over her shoulders and took a bite off the chocolate bar that was sitting on the coffee table. “But I still haven't packed,” she said with her mouth full, “And you shouldn't leave the chocolate lying around. Sammy can reach the coffee table now.”  
The Doctor wrapped his arms around her and smiled. “Why? You'll eat it before he does anyway.”  
“Didn't you want to do something, like, draw me a bath?”  
“Yes,” the Doctor picked her up and threw Clara over his shoulder. She laughed and kicked and yelled at him to put her down but he carried her all the way upstairs.  
“Come on, crazy man, put me down,” she begged.  
“Not unless you say please,” he said as he stopped in front of the bathroom door.  
“Please?”  
“Alright, alright,” the Doctor said reluctantly and finally put her back on her feet. He kissed her before letting her go.

The water was nice and hot when she got into the tub and Clara instantly felt better. She leaned back and let the water caress her hair and face. A few minutes later the bathroom door opened again and the Doctor appeared in the doorway, holding two cups with visibly steaming beverages.  
“I made some cocoa, you want?” he asked.  
“You need to ask? It's liquid chocolate. Hand it over!” Clara demanded and took one of the cups.  
“Mind if I join you?”  
Clara shook her head while blowing over the hot cocoa. The Doctor undressed and quickly stepped into the tub with her. He watched her sip the hot chocolate for a while.  
“You've developed a sweet tooth lately,” he remarked.  
“It's the weather. Everything's all dark and grey. I can use all the endorphins I can get,” Clara said and took another sip. “I hope it isn't that bad in Wales. I don't want to be indoors all weekend.”  
“Well, I could think of some indoor activities that are fun,” the Doctor winked at her.  
Clara smiled and pretended for a while that she didn't know what he was talking about. “Oh, and what would that be? Scrabble?”  
“Much, much better.”  
“Then it's got to be Monopoly.”  
The Doctor pulled her closer and kissed her.  
“Mh, that could work, too,” Clara said.  
“I'm very happy,” the Doctor said, suddenly sounding very sincere.  
“I'm happy, too.”

Clara thought the Doctor looked like he was about to say something, or ask something. Like there was a “but” to his happiness but he never said anything.  
“We should probably start packing,” Clara suggested, “And we also need a new umbrella. The storm killed it earlier.”

* * *

It was almost dark when they reached the cottage but at least it wasn't raining. When they got out of the cab the Doctor put his arm around her and smiled happily at the small house. Isabel was leading her dog around on the leash, Sammy sniffing at everything. He, too, seemed excited about this trip.  
“Could you imagine one day living in such a place?” the Doctor asked.  
“Mh, I don't know. I think I'd miss London,” Clara admitted, “The next town is like 20 miles away.”

Suddenly Clara wondered what the aliens next door were doing right now. Would they come looking for them? Out here? There was only one other building in sight, a bigger cottage that was surrounded by all the things and animals you'd suspect should be around such a place. There was farming equipment and horses and cows. Aliens could hardly hide out here if they wanted a roof over their head. Still, Clara couldn't shake the feeling that something had followed them. If they were to attack them now, what would she do? Open the watch, of course, whether she wanted to or not. She opened her handbag to look for it but it wasn't there. Suddenly Clara realized she had left it at home, in her drawer.


	15. Chapter 15

Jenny was looking around the empty house when she heard a rumble coming from the next room. She quickly went to check, only to find Madame Vastra going through several drawers.  
“I thought we were supposed to spy on the neighbours and not on the Doctor and Clara themselves,” Jenny muttered.  
“It's just unbelievable,” she replied angrily, putting the Doctor's finished columns back on the desk, “The Doctor writing advice columns for a newspaper – can you believe it?”  
“Well, they're actually pretty good if you consider they were written by an alien.”  
“That is exactly my point. He needs to be turned back immediately. He will be furious when he realizes he's been living like a common man for months.”  
“This is not our decision to make. He trusted Clara with this,” Jenny said, her voice sounding a little unsure.  
“Are you defending her now?” Vastra asked.  
“No, I'm just saying that if the Doctor trusted her with such an important decision, he must have had his reasons. We shouldn't doubt him. Or Clara. Besides, the aliens are still here and we haven't made any progress.”

Vastra suddenly took her hand and led her into the dark garden.  
“What do you see, Jenny?”  
Jenny looked to the house Vastra was pointing at, not sure what her wife meant. It was just a house.  
“Nothing, my love. I see nothing.”  
“Exactly. The windows are dark. So either they are asleep at a very unusual time, or they aren't at home.”  
“You don't think they followed them, do you?”  
“I can't say for sure. But if that's not the perfect opportunity to have a look at the inside of their house, I don't know what is.”

* * *

Clara was sitting by the fireplace, casually scratching Sammy's ears. She had a blanket wrapped around herself since it was much colder here by the coast than it was in the city. The Doctor entered the living room moments later with two cups of tea.  
“Alright. The fire seems to be working, Isabel is already fast asleep and I have made us some tea,” he announced.  
“You're perfect,” Clara whispered as she was handed her cup.  
The Doctor sat down next to her and wrapped another blanket around the two of them. He looked at Clara for a moment before his eyes went back to the fire. Clara again got the impression that there was something he desperately wanted to tell her, but he never did.  
“Clara, we're good, right?” he looked at his shoes.  
“Yeah,” Clara stared at him for a moment, wondering what might be going on in his head, “Of course we're good. Why?”  
“There is something I've been wanting to ask you for a while now, but then we had these odd couple of weeks and now it just never seemed like the right time.”  
“What is it, honey?” Clara took his hand as if to encourage him to go on.  
“What do you think about kids?”  
She chuckled. “You know what I think about kids. I love them. Look how perfectly Isabel turned out.”  
The Doctor raised his eyebrows, a hopeful look on his face and now Clara finally understood the real question underneath it.  
“Oh. _Ohhhhhh_ ,” she muttered, “Well. Uhm. You're asking if _I_ want kids.”  
He nodded.  
“With you. You and me,” Clara was baffled.  
“That was the basic idea behind it.”  
“I don't know what to say.” Except for: _How would you raise a kid in the TARDIS?_

The Doctor continued to stare at his shoes. “I guess I misread the signs then.”  
“What signs? Did I, in any way, mention I wanted kids?” Clara asked.  
“No, it's just. . You weren't feeling so well lately and you have this craving for chocolate. I just thought that you were. . .”  
Clara stared at him in shock. No. No, she couldn't be right. Right? “That I was what? Pregnant?”  
“That's what I thought.”  
“That's impossible. I'm on the pill.”  
“Are you sure? I mean, . . .”  
“I'm absolutely sure. Not pregnant.”  
But somehow Clara didn't feel so sure at all. She had been time travelling with the Doctor for so long now and it had always been confusing to her as to when she was supposed to take the pill. But now she'd been back on Earth for a few months and the pill from the 60s sure was safe enough, or wasn't it?


	16. Chapter 16

Despite the sun it was relatively cold for this time of year, so Clara wrapped herself in a warm coat and followed the Doctor and Isabel outside. She saw both of them already ahead of her, the Doctor carrying Isabel on his shoulders and Sammy jumping around joyfully.  
“We were going to the farm to ask if Isabel can ride their pony. Are you coming with us?” the Doctor called to her.  
“I thought she was already sitting on one.”  
Isabel started giggling and the Doctor shot her a dirty look.  
“Wait up, I'm coming,” Clara said and together they walked all the way to the farm. She marvelled at the beautiful autumn landscape. There were meadows and trees and hills as far as the eye could see.  
“You know, we're not far from the sea. I bet we'll be able to see it once we reach the farm,” the Doctor said. He had obviously caught up on Clara's admiration for the sight.  
She just smiled at him in response. Clara was actually starting to feel a little dizzy from the walk but tried to hide it as best as she could. They would reach the farm soon where she could sit down. Still, Clara turned around once more. Not to admire the landscape this time, but because she again felt like she was being watched. But she couldn't make out anyone. 

The old farmer greeted them joyfully and of course allowed Isabel to ride their pony. A girl around the age of 15, probably one of the farmers grandchildren, appeared and asked Isabel if she wanted to help her ready the pony. Exited, Isabel joined her and ran off.  
“You picked a quiet place for a weekend trip,” the old farmer commented.  
“Yes, that was the idea. We were here before a few years ago, on our honeymoon. Do you remember?” the Doctor asked.  
Clara observed the farmer's face as he shook his head. Of course he couldn't remember. They'd never really been here before.  
“And you friend, is he gonna join you soon?” the farmer asked.  
“Friend? What friend?” Clara was startled.  
The farmer pointed to what appeared to be a bush in the distance at first but as Clara watched closely she could see the bush move. It was man. Definitely a man.  
“He doesn't belong to us. Are you sure he's not a local?”  
“Positive. No one ever comes here unless for a holiday.”

And that was when Clara was sure the aliens had been following them from London. What should she do now? The only thing that could protect them was locked away inside a watch. A watch she had left in London. Clara turned around to look for Isabel. To her surprise, she wasn't yet riding the pony but stood beside it, her eyes glued to the figure on the horizon. Then the girls eyes went back to Clara. Isabel nodded.  
Clara suddenly felt the need to grab the Doctor's arm. It was as though the earth moved beneath her feet.  
“Clara, darling, are you alright?” the Doctor looked worried.  
“Yes,” she said at first but then she realized her knees grew weaker, “No.”  
The Doctor wrapped his arms around her protectively and led her to the nearest bench.  
“Here, sit down. I'll get you a glass of water.”

Clara wasn't sure that even a minute had passed when she was handed a glass and the Doctor sat down next to her. She sipped the water, not sure whether it would do any good.  
“Do you want something else?” he asked.  
Clara shook her head. She could think of one thing, but she didn't want to ask for chocolate.  
“Girl, you should eat something. My wife is making a wonderful goulash at the moment. You're more than welcome to join us,” the farmer suggested.  
Only the thought about meat made Clara sick. She shook her head again.  
“Thank you. I don't think that would help, but do you happen to have some chocolate?” the Doctor asked.  
Clara stared at him in surprise, lost for words for the moment. How come he always knew exactly what was going on in her mind?  
“Hehe, sure,” the farmer giggled, “I'll only be a moment. And congratulations, by the way.”  
“I'm not pregnant!” Clara said loudly and started to pout.   
“So she keeps saying,” the Doctor added, not without a smile, while the farmer disappeared into the house.  
“Pregnant or not. We're going back to London and you will get a check-up. Just to be safe.”  
“Now? But we only just got here yesterday.”  
The Doctor took her in his arms and Clara was grateful for the warmth. “Your health is more important. And you're also freezing. We'll come back in spring when it's warm.”

When the farmer returned with the chocolate, the Doctor asked to use his telephone to call a cab.  
“Oh, you're lucky. We only got one last month,” the farmer said and sat down next to Clara while the Doctor went inside to make the phone call.  
“You know, when my wife was pregnant with our second son she hardly ate anything except apples,” he told her.  
“I'm not pregnant,” Clara insisted and started nibbling on the chocolate.  
“Okay,” the old man gave up and just stared into space. 

 

* * *

 

Though Clara insisted that she was feeling well again the Doctor forced her to call in sick the following Monday and demanded she got a check-up. They had taken her blood and now made her wait for the results. While flipping through various magazines Clara truly hoped they wouldn't discover anything abnormal. After all, she was born in 1986. And she had time travelled for quite some time.  
At that moment the receptionist entered the room and called for “Mrs Clara Smith”. It took Clara a while to realize that the woman meant her before she followed her quickly into the doctor's office.  
“Mrs Smith, please, sit down,” the doctor said and pointed at an empty chair.  
_Uh uh, here it goes_ , Clara thought and took a deep breath, wondering what would happen next. They did find something in her blood. They discovered she was from the future.  
“Congratulation, Mrs Smith. You are pregnant.”  
Clara heard the words. But they didn't make sense. She remained silent for a while and then burst into laughter.  
“Haha, no, I'm not.”  
“Yes, you are,” the man assured her. “We got the results from your blood test. You are undeniably pregnant. Now, we could schedule a sonography for next week, if that is alright with you?”  
“Hang you,” Clara said, still not sure if she heard the man right, “I was on the pill all the time. How can I be pregnant?”  
The doctor gave Clara a stern look. “Mrs Smith, the pill is primarily an aid for women who experience severe pains during their menstruation. Although it does have the side effect of being a contraceptive there is no 100% guarantee you won't become pregnant. Especially if you don't follow the intake instructions.”

The words echoed in Clara's head. Pregnant. Undeniably pregnant. They had been right, all of them. Even Clara herself had somehow feared it already, although she had successfully smothered the voice inside her head that had whispered to her: _Yeah, girl, you just might be pregnant._  
Clara stood up and slowly started to walk out of the room without a goodbye. She only half head the doctor saying: “Please, let the receptionist give you an appointment for next week.”

She walked out into the streets, clutching her handbag. What now? _What now?_ She was in the 60s. With a husband that wasn't even really her husband. What would happen when she finally opened the watch and released the Time Lord? Oh God, what about the baby? Was it human? Was it Time Lord? Was it a bit of both? Would the Doctor just drop her off at home and leave her to raise the kid on her own? There was no place for a child in the TARDIS, that was for sure. She couldn't raise him or her while being constantly on the run, chasing aliens or being chased by them. There was one way she could think of but that was out of the question.

It took Clara a long time to walk home but when she finally stepped inside the corridor, the Doctor was already waiting for her. Still in shock, she just dropped her purse on the floor.  
“What's wrong, honey?” the Doctor stepped towards her, looking worried, “What did they say?”  
“I'm pregnant.”


	17. Chapter 17

Clara stood in the corridor and watched the Doctor's reaction. If there was any because he neither spoke, nor moved.  
“Did you hear me? I'm pregnant. _Hooray!_ ” she said, completely unenthusiastic.  
The Doctor stepped closer. When he finally spoke a smile appeared on his face. “Yes, I've heard you.”  
He lifted her up without a warning and twirled her around the room. When Clara finally felt her feet touch the ground again he kissed her and hugged her and told her how happy he was. She didn't know how to react. Of course for John Smith, a respectable man living in the late 60s, a second child was absolutely a great thing. But for the Doctor? Clara doubted the joy would last much longer than his human self.  
“Are you not happy?” the Doctor suddenly asked.  
“I don't know,” Clara admitted, “It's just not what I thought would happen at the moment.”  
Or ever. Gosh, what was she supposed to do?  
“Shall we tell Isabel?”  
“Not just yet, okay?” Clara looked at him, into those joyful eyes but she couldn't even muster a smile, “Let me process the thought of it.”

Clara walked up the stairs and was on her way to the bathroom when Isabel peered out of her bedroom.  
“Hey sweety, what's up?” Clara asked.  
“I wanted to see if you knew,” the little girl replied.  
“Knew what?” and then it struck Clara, “You knew. You knew all the time I was pregnant.”  
“Yes.”  
Clara walked into Isabel's bedroom and closed the door behind her. She sat down on the little bed and gestured for Isabel to join her.  
“I guess we've never really talked about your gift.”  
The girl sat down next to her reluctantly. “I've been told not to talk about it.”  
“But you can tell me, right? I won't hurt you. I just want to understand,” Clara explained.  
“I don't know how it works. I just know things. Things other people don't know. And it cannot be tricked.”  
“Tricked?” Clara wanted to know.  
“By the story the thing put in my head. The story is there, but I know it's not real.”  
“Ah, I see.”  
“And I know the aliens next door didn't come back.”  
Clara's eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean they didn't come back?”  
“They followed us to the farm. But they never came back. The house is empty,” Isabel explained.  
“Do you know what happened to them?”  
“No. They're just gone.”  
“So, we did it? They gave up,” Clara concluded.  
“No.”  
“What do you mean, no? You just said they were gone.”  
Isabel seemed to be concentrating very hard before she finally answered. “I said they were gone. As in vanished. They don't exist any more.”

Clara jumped off the bed and headed for the door.  
“Don't open it!” she heard Isabel scream after her.  
She turned back around to look at the girl who now seemed frightened. “I wasn't going to. I wanted to talk to some friends. Friends that knew about the aliens.”  
When she saw the relief on the girls face Clara began to wonder. She had always thought this masquerade would be hell for a child, that Isabel would be tired of pretending to be someone she wasn't. The look of fear in her eyes proved that Clara had been wrong.  
“You don't want me to open the watch.”  
“It's up to you,” Isabel replied.  
“Yeah, but if it was up to you, would you do it?” Clara inquired.  
“No,” the little girl sighed and stared at her feet, “I don't want to leave.”  
Clara sat back down, this time in front of the girl. She took her hands.  
“You're like parents to me. Parents I've never had. And I've got Sammy. And school is fun. I want it to stay this way forever.”

And that was when Clara realized no matter what her gift was and how mature it made her appear Isabel was still only a little girl. When she looked like she was about to cry Clara took her in her arms. “I promise I won't open the watch until we have found the right solution for everyone, okay?”

* * *

Of course, Clara hadn't gone to see Madame Vastra and she knew it was only a matter of time until she would come looking for her. As for the aliens, they appeared to be truly gone. It was now mid-November and there hadn't been any signs that they were still being watched. Clara was starting to feel safe again while she walked Isabel home from school.  
“Your reaction yesterday was admirable,” Clara said.  
Isabel smiled, looking a tiny bit proud.  
“Your dad had no idea you already knew about it.”  
“Oh, that was easy. It is just like in the school play we're practising. You know the whole play and yet you must act surprised.”  
“Maybe you should pursue a career as an actress. After school,” Clara added, “But you _are_ happy about getting a sibling, right? That was not pretend?”  
“No, I'm happy,” Isabel assured her.

When they entered the house, there was no sign of the Doctor anywhere.  
“Honey?!” Clara called for him.  
“Upstairs,” she heard his response.  
“Listen, Isabel. When a man who usually greets you at the door suddenly doesn't he's either working or he's up to something,” Clara told the little girl.  
Isabel giggled and ran off to look for Sammy.

Clara went upstairs to look for the Doctor but couldn't find him in the bedroom or bathroom.  
“Are you sure you're upstairs?” Clara asked carefully.  
“Guest bedroom!”  
As Clara entered the room that had been meant for guests she found it almost empty. The Doctor was wearing an old pair of jeans and a paint stained shirt – and he was also holding a paintbrush.  
“What happened in here?” Clara asked. “It looks like something exploded. And something being paint.”  
Clara pointed at the mess around her. Everything was covered with old newspapers that were sprinkled with paint and the remaining furniture had been pushed to the centre of the room, covered in old blankets.  
“I started to work on the nursery. I reckoned the walls could use some fresh paint,” the Doctor looked around the room, appearing proud of his accomplishment.  
“Honey,” Clara smiled and she walked up to place a kiss on his lips, “I'm not even past the first trimester. Don't you think it's a little early to paint the nursery and shop for baby clothes?”  
“I haven't shopped for baby clothes,” the Doctor said.  
“Yeah, but you want to, don't you?” she gave him a knowing look. 

Clara thought that maybe it wouldn't be so bad, raising a kid in the 60s. It would have a loving father, a sweet sister and a real home. She turned around to the Doctor and wrapped her arms around him.  
“Thank you for doing all of this,” she said.  
“Thank you for doing all of this with me,” he replied, “I know you weren't so keen on the prospect of having a child.”  
“Some things change.”


	18. Chapter 18

Clara stared down into the Thames, clutching the watch in her hand on the inside of her pocket. If she threw it, everything would stay just the way it was now. She would remain Mrs Clara Smith. She would remain married to the man she loved and who loved her. She would have his child. A child that would grow up in a loving family in a quiet house in London, playing with Matchbox cars and listening to the Beatles. And Isabel would finally have the home she had always wanted, where she could grow up protected from people that were after her only because of her powers.  
But the Doctor would be gone forever. John Smith would be happy, not knowing he ever lived a different life. But no more Doctor. Clara would miss him, even grieve for him, her best friend that had shown her the universe. Yet she knew very well that the Doctor would never be able to love her, not like John Smith did. In fact, Clara was reasonably sure that no man in the entire universe would ever love her like John Smith did. She would never be able to go back to her own time, Clara knew that. Maybe she would look for her parents in a few years. Right now they were both younger than Isabel was, her mother had only turned six last month. Clara would be able to see her mother again, at least from afar. But there was nothing waiting for her back in her own time. Everything she had left there she could pick back up here. She could even be a teacher again.  
Clara pulled the watch out of her pocket and looked at it. In a moment everything that she used to be could be gone. She just had to throw the damn thing into the Thames.

“Clara Oswald, stop right there!” a voice shouted at her. Clara turned around. Madame Vastra, Jenny and Strax – all three of them were standing a few steps away from her.  
“You don't understand,” Clara tried to explain but Strax pulled out a device that resembled a gun a little to much for her taste and pointed it at her. A moment later everything went black.

 

* * *

 

Clara woke up in someone else's bed. She felt a little disoriented but quickly realized she must be at Madame Vastra's place. There was a humming sound only electrical appliances could make and she turned around to find Strax sitting next to her bed, scanning her.  
“What are you doing?” Clara asked, “What have you done to me?”  
“Only sedated you, boy. Not to worry.”  
“I'm a girl,” Clara mumbled and tried to sit up. 

Madame Vastra entered the room just as Clara had pushed herself into a sitting position.  
“I need to pick Isabel up from school,” Clara said, “I need to go.”  
“Jenny is taking care of that. Don't worry. From what you've told us the little girl is very gifted and will know we mean her no harm. But you. . . well. Strax, why are you still scanning her?”  
“There appears to be a problem with her stomach,” Strax said, looking at his instruments, “I believe she has caught a parasite. We should obliterate her immediately. Just to be safe.”  
“It's not a parasite,” Clara growled at him, taking the scanner from his hands.  
Madame Vasta stared at Clara with a strange smile. “I see. So, that is why you attempted to throw away the watch.”  
“That's nothing of your concern.”  
“Oh yes, it is. We are the Doctor's friends and we have his best interest at heart. This little charade is coming to an end. Your pregnancy is unfortunate, but doesn't change anything. We will open the watch. With or without your consent.”

Clara's heart sank. How could she possible reason with Madame Vastra?  
“Please,” she only said.  
“I'm giving you three days. Because I like you and I know you're only acting out of human emotionality. But the watch stays with us.”  
“What will happen to me?” Clara suddenly raised her voice, “What will happen to the child? And to Isabel? Have you considered that?”  
“Not yet, but I am sure we can figure something out,” Vastra replied.

At this moment the door opened and Jenny led Isabel into the room.  
“Wow, _cooooooool_ ,” Isabel said, staring at Madame Vastra.  
Jenny giggled. “I told you.”  
Madame Vastra turned away from Clara and bent down to look at the young girl. “You must be Isabel. It's nice to finally make your acquaintance.”  
Madame Vastra extended her hand and Isabel shook it, still in awe of the lizard woman. Clara watched the scenario with caution. Surely, Madame Vastra wouldn't hurt the child?  
“Aren't you scared of me?” Vastra asked the little girl.  
“No,” Isabel only replied. “Why would I?”  
“Good, that's good,” Madame Vastra stood back up to face Clara again. “Well, I suggest you go home now. We'll see you in three days.”  
“Is there anything I could do to change your mind?” Clara asked, looking at Madame Vastra hopefully, but she only shook her head. 

 

* * *

 

Clara remained silent always all the way home. She desperately tried to think of something that could stop Madame Vastra from opening the watch, but nothing would come to her mind.  
“Jenny was very nice,” Isabel suddenly said.  
“Yeah, she is,” she answered absent-mindedly.  
“And the lizard lady looks so cool.”  
Clara looked over to Jenny and saw the fascination in her eyes. “You liked them, didn't you?”  
“Yes. Not sure about the potato thing, though.”  
Clara laughed. “Oh, Strax is harmless. He is actually pretty funny once you get used to his. . . uhm. . . special kind of humour.”

They both entered the house and were greeted at the door by Sammy and the Doctor.  
“There are my sweethearts. I was beginning to worry,” the Doctor said and gave Isabel a big hug. Clara stared at him as he stood in front of her. Her Doctor or her husband. Now that the decision had been taken from her, she felt no longer lost but devastated instead.  
“Is everything okay?” the Doctor had caught up on Clara's mood.  
“Yes,” she lied and knew it didn't convince him.


	19. Chapter 19

Clara stood in the door frame for a while, watching the Doctor almost furiously at work on his typewriter. She wondered why the TARDIS had picked a life like this for the three of them. She had to admit, making them a family was a quite obvious and logical move. She could have even pictured his former self write an advice column, but not him. Not really. He was fascinated by people, yes, but he was not the most patient character. Now he seemed almost superhuman, as if the TARDIS had created the ideal 60s husband. He was even a better human being than she was but Clara needed to remind herself of the fact that he wasn't human at all. Madame Vastra had been right to stop her from throwing away the watch. The Doctor was a Time Lord and Clara needed to forget her own selfish reasons for keeping him from what he truly was. She had even begun to come to terms with the fact that he would probably dump her back in 2014, never to return after what had happened between the two of them. But it didn't mean that she couldn't at least enjoy the last day given to them. And also, she still had to take care of Isabel's future.

Clara approached the Doctor and gently touched his shoulder. He flinched under her caress. Apparently he hadn't heard her enter.  
“Anything good?” she asked.  
“Mh, just some husband with an unhappy wife,” he replied.  
“What are you advising him to do?”  
“Get a divorce. Really, she sounds like a nightmare. But I can't write that, can I?” he looked up to her. Clara wrinkled her nose and shook her head.  
“Probably not,” she took a deep breath, “Listen, I've read the weather reports for tomorrow and they said it's going to be a nice, warm day. I thought we could go for a picnic in the park before the winter comes.”  
“Sounds like a lovely idea. Isabel and Sammy will be delighted.”  
“Okay, I'll go and pick up Isabel now,” Clara announced.  
“Already?”  
“I wanted to stop by the book shop first. I think I should quit the job now that I'm pregnant,” she lied. The pregnancy wouldn't have stopped Clara from going to work twice a week, but the fact that she would soon be back in her own time definitely would.  
“And here I was afraid to suggest that,” the Doctor smiled happily, “I'm glad that everything seems to be working out so perfectly.”  
“Yeah, me too,” she sighed.

 

* * *

Strax opened the door after Clara had rung the bell two times. He tried to look at her grumpily, but his eyes betrayed that he was a tiny bit happy to see her.  
“Strax, I need to speak with Madame Vastra. And Jenny as well,” Clara explained, “Now.”  
“Come in, _girl_ ,” he stressed the last word, as if proud that he had finally learned the difference. 

Madame Vastra and Jenny were discussing something important over a cup of tea in the conservatory. Clara could tell it must have been important, because both of them had a stern look on their face and Jenny stopped talking when she saw he enter.  
“I need to talk to you,” Clara announced.  
Madame Vastra turned around. “Well, well, who do we have here? If you're here to try to convince me to give back the watch you can save your breath.”  
“That's not why I'm here. Although I wanted to ask you about the aliens.”  
“What about them? We took care of it if you haven't noticed,” Vastra explained, “We caught them on their way back to London.”  
“What did you do to them?”  
“Does it matter? They're not coming back,” Madame Vastra licked her lips. Jenny, who saw it, smiled knowingly.  
_Okay, so she ate them. Nothing to be worried about_ , Clara told herself. Although she was a tiny bit worried. It was a nice little reminder of what would happen to her if Madame Vastra ever became truly mad at her.  
“Is that all, dear?” the lizard woman inquired.  
“Not quite. Isabel,” Clara started.  
“What about the little girl?”  
“She needs a place to stay, she needs a family. Someone who can protect her.”  
Jenny took Vastra's hand. “We could take her in. She really is a sweet, little girl and we would protect her at any cost. What do you think about it, my love?”  
Madame Vastra looked confused. “Raise her here? Do you think that is wise?”  
“Well, it's not like we haven't considered a child already. It's just that we never figured out how we would come by one,” Jenny said, staring hopefully at the lizard woman.  
“What do you think about this, Clara?” Madame Vastra asked.  
“Well,” Clara started, “Isabel seemed very fascinated by the two of you. And I'm sure you will take very good care of her.”  
“We would indeed,” Jenny assured her.  
“But Isabel has a dog. If you take her in she must keep it. She loves the little fellow,” Clara demanded.  
“A canine?” Vastra looked a bit disgusted.  
“My love, if we're willing to take in a child the puppy should be the least of our problems. And Strax can walk him,” Jenny said. Clara didn't think she had seen her so happy before.

A second later Strax entered through the glass door.  
“Someone mentioned my name?” he asked, “What are the orders?”  
Vastra let out a little laugh. “Well, it seems we'll be adding a dog to your daily duties.”  
Strax saluted. “Will be very happy to take care of. . . wait, a dog? You mean that furry, four-legged thing with bad breath?”  
Everyone in the room except for Strax began to laugh. Even Clara. She was glad that Vastra and Jenny would be happy to take in Isabel. The girl would finally have the loving family she had always wanted. And if she wasn't safe here she would be safe nowhere else.  
“Alright, if that is settled now, we will see you tomorrow evening,” Vastra said.  
Clara's smiled faded from her face immediately. She had managed to find a family for Isabel, but what about her own family? What would become of that?

 

* * *

 

“Isabel, I need to tell you something,” Clara said gravely as they walked home from school. The girl looked at her knowingly and Clara wasn't sure she even needed to explain it but did it anyway. “Tomorrow evening we're going to open the watch. Your dad and I will go away, but I spoke to Madame Vastra and Jenny today. You remember them?”  
“Of course,” the girl nodded.  
“You will be staying with them. I've known them for quite a while and they are very good people who will love you and protect you. I think it is the best possible decision for all of us.”  
“Then why are you sad?” Isabel asked.  
“Because, just like you, I don't want to go,” Clara sighed. She turned her face away from Isabel to hide the tears that covered her cheeks. 

When they got home Isabel quickly excused herself to go upstairs to her room and do her homework. Clara wanted to go after her and ask her if she was okay with staying with Vastra and Jenny but felt the girl needed some time to herself first. She found the Doctor sitting on the couch, reading, and Clara let herself fall down next to him. She rested her head on his chest and the Doctor placed his arm around her.  
“What are you reading?” Clara asked.  
“Poems by Wilfred Owen,” he explained.  
“Could've picked something more cheerful.”  
The Doctor chuckled, “What could be more cheerful than a soldier writing beautiful poetry? A man who does terrible things, who witnesses death all around him and still finds it in himself to create something magnificent.”  
Clara stared at him and for the first time she saw the Doctor in John Smith. There was no denying that he was still there, buried deep inside a human being. And tomorrow the man John Smith would cease to exist and there would only be the Doctor left.  
Clara leaned forward to kiss him because she knew she was running out of chances to do so.


	20. Chapter 20

Clara let herself fall back into the pillows, panting and laughing at the same time.  
“I changed my mind about the picnic,” she said, “We should just stay in bed all day.”  
The Doctor buried his head in the pillow. “Have mercy, darling. I'm an old man. Or do you want me to have a heart attack?”  
“No,” Clara said, suddenly very sombre, “I want to freeze this moment so it can never go away.”  
Clara turned around to where the Doctor was resting and he looked up to her.  
“Sometimes I don't know what to make of you.”  
“Why?” Clara asked.  
“Because everything's fine and suddenly you're so distant, and then it's fine again and now you're sounding like the world is coming to an end tomorrow.”  
“For all you know it could.”  
“I doubt that,” the Doctor pressed a kiss to her lips and made an effort to get out of bed, but Clara grabbed his armed and dragged him back onto the mattress. She pulled him in for a longer, more passionate kiss and buried her hands deep into his hair.  
“No, not again,” he mumbled.  
Clara looked him in the eyes and smirked. “Just one more time.”

 

* * *

Clara was happy to see that the weather report had been right. It was warm and sunny for a day in October and when they arrived at the park Clara realized that they weren't the only ones to have had the idea.  
Isabel had Sammy on a leash and was not yet keen to sit down, so instead she wandered off to another kid with a dog. Clara and the Doctor spread a blanket on a sunny spot and unpacked the food.  
“Want some grapes?” the Doctor asked.  
“Sure, why not?” Clara said and stretched out her hand.  
“No, not like this,” he laughed and threw one of the grapes at her. “If you want something you've got to work for it.”  
Clara was surprised she actually caught the next one and the one after that with her mouth but then she reached over and stole bowl of grapes from his lap.  
“Hey, you thief!” he said before one of the grapes hit his forehead.  
“Now, no more playing with food,” Clara demanded with a fake scowl. She scooted over to the Doctor and leaned against his shoulder. For a moment neither of them said anything.

“Know what? I hope it's a boy,” the Doctor broke the silence, “Someone to take fishing and build things with.”  
Clara laughed. “Since when do you fish?”  
“I could start to,” he said and began to stare into space.  
“Something wrong?” Clara asked when he suddenly fell silent.  
“No, it's just, I'm scared that I won't be around.”  
“What makes you say such a thing?”  
“Uhm, circle of life? Mortality? I don't know. It sometimes seems to me that wanting a kid at my age is a very selfish thing.”  
Clara turned around and reached out with her hand to lift his face to hers. “Don't think like that. You'll be around for a long, long time. And whatever happens. Just remember how much you _want_ to be around,” she said and hoped dearly that this feeling would survive in him. 

 

* * *

It was dark when they got home and Clara's feet had grown heavier with every step. It wouldn't be long now, an hour at tops. She felt a tight knot in her stomach that made her think she would be sick before the Doctor had even found the light switch. The gravity of what Clara knew was about to happen was too much for her. Part of her wanted to hide under the bed until everything was over. She had sometimes felt like this back in school when she had been about to take a test she had known she was going to fail. The worst part wasn't the result but sitting through it, knowing something bad was going to happen. Only this was much, much worse. When the Doctor had switched on the light Clara could make out two figures already waiting for them in their living room. 

“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” the Doctor demanded to know. Clara stopped next to him and took his hand into hers.  
“We are your friends, Doctor,” Madame Vastra breathed underneath her veil as she rose from the couch. Jenny followed her example, looking at Clara apologetically.  
“Doctor? What are you talking about? Who are you? Clara?” he turned around to her and Clara was afraid to meet his gaze. How could she look at him now? Or ever?  
“I don't understand this. What are you doing here?” he asked again.  
“You will. Very soon,” Vastra assured him and fetched the old watch from her pocket.

Clara's heart started to beat faster and her throat seemed to close up. So many things were going on in her mind, things she couldn't even begin to put into words. Tears were running down her cheeks and she could not stop them. She turned around to her Doctor, her husband, her beloved John Smith and kissed him one last time.  
“I'm so sorry, Doctor. Please, forgive me.”

Clara averted her eyes when she saw Madame Vastra open the watch but she kept holding his hand and swore she would never let go, no matter what happened. She saw the golden light escape from the watch and stream into the Doctor. The force of it knocked him off his feet and Clara fell down next to him, still holding his hand in hers. Her other hand was on his chest when she felt it. Two beating hearts. Sobbing, she broke down next to him.


	21. Chapter 21

Clara was sitting on the bed in her room in the TARDIS. She didn't know how long she had been there but at some point, when she could no longer stand the silence, she had gone through the records stacked on the floor. _Monday Monday_ was playing on a loop on the old phonograph. She didn't dare go into the control room and face the Doctor. They hadn't talked since. When Madame Vastra and Jenny had hovered over the Doctor until he regained consciousness she had quietly hugged Isabel goodbye and had sneaked off into the TARDIS. The Doctor would know where she was and if not, the music would be a nice indicator.  
“I think there might be other songs on the record as well,” she heard the Doctor say. Clara looked up and found him standing in the door way to her room.  
“Yes, but I like this one,” she just said and lowered her eyes again.  
“We danced to this one,” he said. Clara just nodded. “So, do you want to go home?”

Clara lifted her head and took a longer look at him. He had changed back into his favourite clothes, the dark coat with the red lining. “Is there anywhere else I could go?”  
“Phew, I don't know. Mars, Raxacoricofallapatorius, . . .”  
“What?”  
“Raxacorico. . . ah, nevermind. You get what I mean.”  
“You still want me to travel with you?” Clara asked in disbelief.  
“If you want to.”  
“But, should I even? I mean, I am. . .,” but the word pregnant wouldn't cross her lips.  
The Doctor retrieved the sonic screwdriver from his pocket and scanned her, taking a look at the sonic and scanned her again. When he was done he put it back into his pocket.  
“Like I thought. Not pregnant anymore,” he announced.

Clara glanced at her belly. She hadn't felt any difference. But she hadn't exactly felt very pregnant before either.  
“Not pregnant? How can that be?” she asked, “I definitely was.”  
“It was a part of the human me. I'm not human anymore. I don't know how it works exactly. I don't think a Time Lord has ever tried that before.”  
“So, you remember everything that happened during the time?” Clara asked, looking at her feet again.  
“Yes,” he dragged the word a little too much.  
“And you're not mad?”  
The Doctor shrugged. “I'm just glad you made Vastra take the dog. I hate dogs. No dogs in the TARDIS.”  
Clara laughed. “See, that's exactly why I tried to talk human-you out of it.”  
“Well, you did a lousy job at that,” he said, “Now, come on. There are places to see. Planets to visit. We have several months to catch up on.”

Clara followed him into the control room and watched him do what he did best. Press buttons, flip switches. He was back in his own world and it was good. Until she thought of something.  
“Doctor, I've been wondering. Why did the TARDIS make us husband and wife?”  
“Mh?” he asked, looking up from the console for a second.  
“You said the last time you did it your companion became your maid. Why was I your wife? Did your spaceship attempt to make a not so funny joke?”  
The Doctor walked over to one of his book shelves and mumbled something Clara couldn't understand.  
“Sorry, I didn't catch that,” Clara said.  
Again, he mumbled. This time louder, but still incomprehensible. Clara raised an eybrow and walked up to him.  
“Doctor,” she said in her most threatening voice, “Answer my question.”  
“I might have thought about it,” he said and quickly changed the subject, “Changed my mind. Raxacoricofallapatorius. Stupid idea. Slitheens are disgusting.”

Clara smiled and decided to push him no further. She had the answer she had wanted and she liked it. John Smith had been the ultrahuman version of the Doctor, which meant that somewhere buried deep inside him were the Doctor's feelings for her. He was not her husband anymore. She did not carry his child. But it was a start, right?


End file.
